This is how I take my selfies
by TopazStrange
Summary: A ZoruruXOC fanfic. Oh yes I did! Don't worry; it's not too fluffy. Rated T for darker themes, violence, and the occasional decapitation.
1. The Nightmare's Blossom

8/22/13

My first fanfic, Yay!

**This is how I take my selfies**:

The Nightmare's Blossom

The battlefield… where nightmares are born. Smoke slowly drifted up from the smoldering ruins of the now silent warzone. A few hours ago, the surrounding area had been alight with countless explosions and the heavy rain of gunfire. Sounds of combat rang out from the conflict and echoed into the soot-filled sky. Surrender was not an option; neither was defeat—for the two battling races were mortal enemies.

The fight began when a unit of Keronians—a frog-like species of aliens from the planet Keron—was ambushed by a squad of Vipers—a race of snake-headed humanoids with naturally occurring arm-cannons. The battle was taking place on a small planetoid that was home to one of Keron's invasion colonies. The Keronians were called there on a mission to investigate suspicious activity that had been reported by those based on planet. The Keron forces, much to their dismay, found themselves going toe to toe with the cause of the disturbance—a group of rogue Vipers encroaching on their territory.

The strike was quick and brutal. The Keronians were put on the defensive, but swiftly implemented their counterstrike. Neither side was backing down. What the combatants thought would be a brief skirmish quickly escalated to a fight to the death. Although the Vipers were finally forced to retreat, both sides took heavy losses. The resulting scene of blood and death was a horror to behold. It was as if the apocalypse had come early.

It was to this tragic scene that the Garuru Platoon had been summoned.

Lance Corporal Zoruru stood on the ridge overlooking the ravaged strip of field along with the rest of his platoon. The cyborg had seen much bloodshed during his time as an assassin for the Keron army, but this level of destruction was beyond anything he had yet seen. The platoon had received a desperate S.O.S. signal as they were passing through the quadrant and had immediately responded. When they landed at the source of the signal, they had expected to arrive in the middle of a raging battle. The eerie silence was far from what they expected.

"What the HECK happened here?!" blurted Taruru. The platoon leader, Garuru, shot him a withering glare immediately silencing the young private. Taruru flicked his gaze to the ground struggling to contain the surge of emotions that was now flooding his heart. "It's probably his first time seeing such carnage" Zoruru thought to himself.

The corpses of both Keronians and Vipers littered the ground. Not a single person was left standing. The only signs of life to be seen were the occasional shuffles of injured soldiers attempting to crawl away from this nightmare. Agonized moans drifted through air along with the stink of blood and sulfur. The disturbing sight was clearly affecting the second youngest of the team.

"And how is the youngest member of the team faring?" Zoruru silently wondered. He stole a quick glance at Tororo. The mischievous glint had left the tadpole's eyes only to be replaced by bewilderment. He stood rigid; his gaze slowly shifting left to right. The cyborg watched the two young soldiers for a moment as they nervously shuffled their feet, trying to come to grips with what they were now witnessing.

"They should have realized what they were getting into when they joined the army. _Tch_, rookies." Zoruru muttered aloud earning himself a disapproving glare from Pururu. Taruru and Tororo didn't seem to notice his comment and continued to stare ahead, only snapping out of their reverie when Garuru stepped forward and turned to face his platoon.

"Alright, enough standing around." said Garuru sounding official as ever. "I realize that we were responding to a support mission, but now our mission objective has been changed to search and rescue. Everyone spread out and search for survivors; also, salvage any machinery and weapons that are still functional."

Taruru twitched in surprise, "W-w-wait a minute! You're making us go out there by ourselves?!" he stuttered in disbelief. "Pu pu." Tororo interjected. "Let's have a vote. All those in favor of staying together." Tororo and Taruru's hands shot into the air, but Pururu's hands remained by her sides while Zoruru crossed his arms and sighed. "H-hey! Help us out you guys! Scraps! Old lady! Little support, please?" Tororo pleaded.

"First of all," growled Zoruru "Stop calling me 'Scraps'. Second of all, how do you except us to get anything done with us having to hold your hand?"

"Pu pu. What did you say, you stupid tin can?" Tororo squeaked, the heat rising in his face. Zoruru turned to face the tadpole "You heard me."

Taruru whipped his gaze back and forth between the assassin and the buck private sensing the energy crackle between the two of them. He started to wonder if there was going to be a fight. "Hey, cut it out you guys!" He glanced at Pururu desperate for some back up, but she was busy considering the state of her youth since Tororo had called her an 'old lady' again.

"Enough" said Garuru. With that simple command the platoon snapped back to attention, not wanting to upset their leader. He wasn't pleasant when angry.

"We are here on a mission. I expect each of you to behave as a soldier of Keron is expected to conduct himself." He cast a stern gaze on Taruru and Tororo. "I realize this is your first 'cleanup' mission, but that is no reason not to perform the duties that are expected of you. These soldiers died protecting what was precious to them: their friends and allies back on Keron. Don't disgrace their name by hesitating where action is necessary. They can no longer serve, having given their lives in battle, therefore you must use the life that you have to its absolute fullest. Push forward to the task ahead of you without any doubts. That's what it means to be a soldier Keron." He turned his back to them. "It's also the best way to honor our comrades who have fallen." He added in a gentle tone, then he whipped back around to face his platoon and shouted, "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!"

In unison the platoon snapped to a salute with a resounding, "SIR YES SIR!"

Zoruru marveled at how the atmosphere had changed. The aura of dreaded apprehension had lifted only to be replaced by an air of quiet determination. Taruru stood at attention, tears streaming down his face, profoundly inspired by his leader's words. Tororo cackled his trademark 'pu pu pu' while looking half-impressed by the lieutenant's speech and half-annoyed at having his attitude corrected. Pururu merely stood up straight, a knowing smile on her lips and steely determination in her eyes, ready to accomplish the job she was trained for.

"He really knows what to say in any situation." Zoruru thought to himself, impressed by how Garuru had diffused the tension among the soldiers. He too felt more at ease after Garuru's address; he also felt a twinge of shame when he thought back to the fight he nearly started a few moments ago. His words only succeeded in stirring up strife. "Well, I suppose that's why he's leader and I'm not." The assassin simply thought. But he knew that he was deluding himself. There were many reasons going beyond his speaking ability that made Garuru a much better leader, his unflinching composure and superior skills in battle, for example. Garuru is the best leader any Keronian can hope for. Zoruru held great respect for him and would follow him into the most dark and unyielding corners of space without hesitation.

"A Keronian worthy of my loyalty." Zoruru whispered to himself, thinking of how much he fell short by comparison. The cyborg was definitely not cut out for leadership due to his lack of people skills and reclusive personality. He was much better at stabbing things. Stabbing is good. Fun actually.

Speaking of stabbing. It was time to get to work.

While Zoruru was having his inner monologue, Garuru had been rattling off a list of instructions to his platoon. Zoruru had only been half-listening, but he got the gist of it. He, Taruru, and Garuru were to go out into the wreckage on a search and rescue mission: picking up and survivors and picking off any remaining enemies. Pururu and Tororo were to stay at the ship and set up base camp—the mission would probably take a couple days to complete.

The platoon broke apart and immediately began their tasks. Pururu bustled off to gather her medic kits while Tororo muttered something about surveillance cameras. Garuru marched off to the west end of the battlefield, Taruru quickly trotting behind him. The rookie still looked quite frightened and stuck close to his leader; he even tried to hold his hand (XD). Garuru slapped him away, but allowed the young private to follow him.

By this time, Zoruru was already at the farthest reaches of the warzone. He was eager to get away from his platoon mates for a little while. He always worked best solo.

He sensed something. He spun around seeking the source of the disturbance. A space cruiser zoomed past at low altitude. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief when he recognized the symbol on the hull of the ship: the Keron star. "Suppose we weren't the only who got the S.O.S." Zoruru pondered, half-grateful that it wasn't an enemy ship, half-disappointed that he didn't get to slice anything. It's been so long since he has had a good workout. "Hmph…" the cyborg grunted and darted off in the opposite direction. Garuru would deal with the newcomers.

He traversed the rugged terrain with no issues, gracefully jumping freshly formed craters—the result of rogue bazooka blasts, no doubt. He slid to a halt in a remote corner of the battlefield. The whole area was engulfed in a heavy silence, as if nature itself was mourning the dead fallen here. Amidst the rubble of a makeshift fort (probably thrown up in a futile effort to hold a defensive position), five Keronians lie dead. At least, he thought there were five. It was hard to tell with numerous, stray body parts strewn across the still-smoldering ground. "It's probably a good thing Taruru went with Garuru." Zoruru murmured. "He probably couldn't stomach this mess." The assassin forced himself not to shiver with revulsion. This level of carnage was horrible even by his standards, and his standards were pretty low due to the fact that he was a cyborg assassin equipped with razor blades and a bad attitude.

He stepped over the prone body of a Viper soldier. "Makes sense." muttered Zoruru glancing around at the five motionless forms of his fallen comrades. "It takes five Keronians to take down a Viper."

An ominous aura suddenly gripped his senses. He turned his gaze to the source and found himself staring into the entrance to a narrow gulley squeezed between two rocky outcroppings. "The struggle stretched out this far? For a small unit, they covered a lot of ground." Zoruru peered into the murky darkness. One perk of being a cyborg was the ability to pick up heat signatures with his artificial eye. Using the power of both Keronian technology and his keen assassin senses, he scanned the gulley for signs of life…..Nothing….

Had he imaged it? That ominous aura? He stood in silence a few moments. "Screw it." He muttered as he entered the tiny canyon.

The little gulley was dark, damp, and a bit narrow. There was just enough space for a Pekoponian SUV to drive through. The walls were also very steep; at least ten feet tall (pretty tall for a two-foot Keronian). Small puddles of rainwater collected here and there on the floor along with stones of various sizes making the valley quite uneven. The shadows covering the walls and floor gave the place and eerie atmosphere; however, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Why am I even in here?" Zoruru questioned himself as he accidentally stepped in a puddle for the second time. All this moisture wasn't good for his metallic side. He looked up at the sky still visible above the canyon's jagged walls. The sky was growing dim, wisps of purplish clouds drifted across a blood-red sky. "This is a waste of time." Zoruru grumbled. After all, what did he expect to find in here? More bodies?

He turned to leave, but before Zoruru could start the trek back, he once again sensed that aura. Slightly bewildered, the assassin turned again to stare down the gulley. "What could that possibly be coming from?" With a growl, he once again began journey towards his unknown destination.

"This is stupid." He grumbled for the fifth time since resuming his walk. He wanted nothing more than to turn back,—he didn't like being in this stupid canyon—but he couldn't ignore his assassin instincts. He was getting farther and farther away from the battlefield and his platoon mates. "Will Garuru come looking for me?" he wondered. Nah, Garuru and the rest of the platoon probably forgot all about him. They always did. Zoruru quickly beat back a twinge of sorrow that threatened to grip his soul. It seemed he and Zeroro shared the same curse…

Wait….. Why was he thinking about Zeroro, his arch-enemy? "Grr…" Zoruru growled. "Zeroro" he nearly spat. His most hated enemy. Why was he thinking about him here? Was it because of this place? The cyborg shook off the thought and stomped down the gorge, (*stomp, clank, stomp, clank, stomp, clank* =D) all his efforts of stealth forgotten.

He occupied himself by running through a list of things that he hated: Zeroro, this place, rust, Taruru on UNO night, Zeroro, this place, Zeroro, freakin' cereal commercials, this place… this place. Zoruru paused from his hate fest. He really did hate this place. It made him remember something the assassin desperately tried to keep buried beneath his memories. The damp smell of the earth, the steady 'drip-drop' of the water sliding down the walls, the lonely, gripping darkness—not a soul to be seen. He allowed his mind to wander as he recalled that time…

'Where am I? What's going on? Where is everyone?' *throb*

The forest was silent, as if holding its breath. An early-winter chill crept across the ground and glided through the air. All was still.

'What's wrong with me? I can't move! I can't see!' *throb*

The calamity ended a while ago. The peaceful forest clearing was altered by the presence of massive boulders and rivers of drying sludge. The scene of a recent flood.

'Oh frog, am I dead? Oh no oh no! I can't feel my left side at all!' *throb*

The ground was still soaked. Some trees have fallen over due to the loosened soil, their exposed roots suspended in the air. The land itself was hurting.

'So cold… What is this feeling? Pain? Make it stop!' *throb*

The earth was marred by debris that was carried down the mountain by the force of the water, scarring everything in its path. The wind gently hushed the mountain as a mother would her sleeping child.

'So much pain. It's unbearable. Someone, help!' *throb*

Shadow blanketed the forest as night fell. The moon hid its face as dark clouds covered the night sky. Time moved on.

'Someone! Anyone! Help me! Save me!' *throb*

All was still.

…

'Don't leave me alone…'

*clack*

Zoruru spun around, his sickle blade appearing with a metallic 'shing'. He slowly scanned the canyon for the source of the sound… The gulley was once again wrapped in silence.

With a hiss of frustration, Zoruru retracted his blade. How could he be daydreaming right in the middle of hostile territory? He could have walked into an ambush like some stupid amateur! Enough messing around. Zoruru slipped into full-out stealth mode, becoming one with the shadow. He crept noiselessly down the earthen corridor.

*plink* *clack*

What was that?

Zoruru froze. He stretched out his senses. No one was there. Had a stone merely fallen by itself from the canyon wall?

No… Something was up. The assassin put his right hand to the wall, ignoring the chill that crept into his bones. After a few seconds, he felt it… tremors.

Zoruru took off down the gulley, effortlessly leaping boulders and dodging around puddles. The tremors grew more powerful and more frequent the farther he went. A section of the wall crumbled with the vibrations sending gravel into a puddle with a loud 'sploosh'. Zoruru sped on, moving like a shadow. The tremors were now accompanied by a loud noise. A noise Zoruru knew all too well. A loud whine echoed down the gulley followed by a concussive blast of heated air. The unmistakable sound of a Viper's arm cannon. He had sensed something after all.

The power of the tremors intensified as Zoruru approached his target. Signs of battle were now apparent. The canyon now bore multiple scorch marks and craters. Huge chunks of rock separated from the walls and crashed to the floor, the ground trembled from the multiple impacts. "Must be an intense fight," Zoruru thought, "but why so far away?" It had taken him forever to get here, and he was ready to sink his claws into something.

Maniacal laughter pierced the air, as the explosions ceased. Zoruru had finally arrived; the source of that ominous aura was now obvious. Unseen and unheard he slipped forward through the growing darkness—this planet's sun was close to setting.

The cyborg reached a bend and peered around; his suspicions were confirmed. A Viper was haughtily perched on top a large boulder, his head thrown back and arms spread wide, laughing a sinister yet obnoxious laugh at the top of his lungs like a villain out of some corny kid's show (Zoruru fought the urge to roll his eyes). "Ha ha ha! In the end, I am victorious!" gloated the Viper from his perch. The Viper looked worn and injured, but that wasn't stopping him from basking in his own glory. "Foolish Keronian! If you had turned tail and ran you might be still alive! But, nooo. You chose to be the stupid and pathetic creature you really are! You thought you could defeat me? Ha! Your brain must be filled with stardust! Vipers are truly the superior species! Bwa ha ha ha ha!"

Zoruru has had about enough of this. The blood feud between Keronians and Vipers had been going on for centuries. No one was even sure how the feud started anymore, but none of this meant anything to the assassin. As far as he was concerned, any annoying braggart dumb enough to stand there as an open target deserved to die.

Zoruru leaped from his hiding place, soaring through the air toward the Viper who was too busy laughing his head off to notice that he was under attack. With a flick of the wrist, the Viper's arm cannon was sliced to pieces (finally some action! =D).

"Argh!" the Viper screeched, "What in the-? Who dares-?" the Viper hadn't the chance to finish his inquiry as he quickly dodged a rain of shuriken. The Viper was battle-weary but still mobile. Glancing around in confusion, the Viper tried to spot his attacker.

"Just one question for you." Zoruru rasped as he emerged from the shadows, his red eye glowing menacingly. Viper spun around. "What are you and your kind doing on Keronian territory?"

The Viper smirked; it was just another stupid frog. "Whatever we please." The Viper responded, already forgetting the close brush with death he experienced moments ago. "You Keronians have no right to claim anything as 'your territory.' We Vipers are the superior species! The entire universe should bow down to us. Bwa ha ha!"

"I see." Zoruru sighed, hearing all that he needed to hear. It was just another pointless raid the Vipers initiated in an effort to impose their superiority—or serious lack thereof. These raids had been occurring frequently over the past few months resulting in many casualties. The Vipers were the physically stronger, but the Keronians outnumbered them; plus, the Keronians were more skilled and more organized. The Vipers lost every time, but always came back for more. "My fellow Keronians died for this idiocy?" thought Zoruru in disgust, growing more infuriated by the second. The Vipers were really starting to tick him off.

"If that is all, I will have to end this now." Zoruru once again drew his scythe blade from its resting place in his left arm. "Any last words?" the assassin growled as he readied his battle stance.

"Ha ha ha!" The Viper bellowed. "Give it your best shot robo-boy! Everyone knows it takes exactly five Keronians to take down a Viper! There's no way you can win one-on-one!" He threw his head back and continued to guffaw in that crazed laugh of his.

"Indeed," Zoruru responded, "but I'm sure you will find that I am much stronger than your average Keronian." He allowed himself a small smirk under the bandages that concealed his face.

"Ha! We'll see about that!" (Ugh. This guy is so corny.) The Viper shouted as he drew a laser pistol from his belt. "DIE FROG!" The Viper screamed as he sent a barrage of laser bullets zooming toward the cyborg-assassin, each blast punctuated by more fits of hysterical laughter.

This was too easy.

Using his Super Assassin Magic: levitation skill, Zoruru bobbed and weaved his way through the wall of laser bullets like a ghost. In a heartbeat, the assassin was floating inches away from the Viper's face.

All foolish pride left the Viper's face as panic overtook his features. His arm cannon was now useless and he just ran out of laser bullets. Could it be over for the mighty Viper?

In the split-second he hung suspended in midair, Zoruru considered his options. He could take the enemy alive and bring him back to camp for further questioning… Naw. He doubted another villainous monologue would reveal much. With a swift swing of his arm that was impossible to follow, Zoruru deftly separated the Viper's head from his body. (Look away kids!).

Viper's body crumpled to the ground. Zoruru fell to the valley floor with a soft 'tmp.' One more was added to today's body count.

Zoruru sighed. He travelled all the way down here for this? Such a disappointment.

Zoruru turned to go. "I should report back to Garuru." He thought. However, as the cyborg was about to start making his way down the gorge; a quiet voice broke the post-battle silence.

"Ro…..mo…"

What now?

Zoruru looked again into the ravaged canyon. The voice came again.

"R-Romo…."

Over by the decimated canyon wall, the final rays of daylight fell on a figure. Zoruru approached cautiously, readying himself to strike in the event of an ambush. The figure remained motionless.

It was a Keronian. A female. She had midnight-black skin and forest-green headgear. She was full-grown judging by the fact that she no longer had a tadpole tail, but the white pigment on her face (a typical characteristic of a Keronian tadpole) had only receded halfway.

The girl lay half-buried in a small pile rubble. A thick layer of dust coated her features, as well as large blotches of fresh blood. Her left arm jutted out at a crooked angle; her chest was a burnt and bloody crisp. Most would have presumed the girl dead if it weren't for the muttering that occasionally escaped her lips.

Zoruru approached the girl and stopped at her side. The girl, as if sensing his presence, twitched and again whispered.

"R-Romomo…"

"I'm not Romomo." The assassin rasped, half wondering who it was she thought she was talking to. "What's your name, soldier?"

"….."

It was no use she couldn't hear him.

For a few tense moments, Zoruru just stood and stared at the girl. The memories he repressed earlier threatened to break again to the surface.

"…"

"…"

"…."

Slowly and gently Zoruru began to lift the girl from the rubble. He was going to pry her right arm loose from a cluster of boulders when he realized with a jolt that she no longer had a right arm—most likely torn off in an explosion. Her heartbeat barely registered and her breathing was sparse.

After he had settled her in his arms, Zoruru sped off toward the battlefield, silently questioning himself all the while.

Why had he picked up this dying soldier? She wouldn't even last the night; so why bother? Did he see himself in her? Abandoned in a foreign place, desperately calling out to a comrade who was no longer there while his lifeblood dyed the ground crimson? Or did he merely pity her. Dying alone on the cold, hard ground on a planet that wasn't home?

Zoruru glanced down at the girl hanging limply in his arms, shook himself mentally, and raced back towards his platoon.

The battlefield… where nightmares are born. Yet in this dark tragedy some hope can be found scattered among the ashes of despair. Lay all doubts aside and push forward. There on the cold, broken ground, sweet dreams can still blossom.


	2. Destiny Bites

Chapter 2: Destiny Bites

Destiny, fate, chance… do these things exist? Call them what you will, but there are forces in this life that shape us—make us who we are. They roam the universe like a roaring beast, seeking opportunities to change us, to put us in circumstances beyond our wildest imagination. With a mischievous grin and a divine hand, we are pulled along to the unknown.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

A Keronian soldier never stayed idle for long. Being a military race, the forces of Keron always had much to do. Whether it be scouting enemy territory, defending their colonized planets, or ensuring their homeland security, the soldiers of Keron were always on the move; after all, the universe was ripe for the taking. And on outpost planet KR-06 (formerly planet Tandoor), one young buck private was rarin' to go… home, that is.

"Pu pu. Are we going home nooow?" whined Tororo as he not-so-patiently awaited his leader's orders. Zoruru resisted the urge to punch the tadpole in the back of the head. After getting over the initial shock of what they were dealing with, Tororo had been constantly complaining about how tedious and boring this mission was.

Though he did not approve of the tadpole's insistent whining, Zoruru had to agree that he was fed up with this mission as well. The Garuru platoon had spent a tiresome three days on this battlefield cleaning up the wreckage, treating the wounded, and disposing of the dead. None of them pleasant tasks, but all necessary. Everyone worked nonstop since arriving. Pururu especially. The nurse had her hands full the entire time, busy treating the handful of surviving soldiers. Tororo had been busy running surveillance as well as examining, repairing, and cataloguing surviving equipment. Taruru was given most of the grunt work such as hauling debris and fetching supplies but did so without complaint, always happy to be following orders. Zoruru was tasked with patrolling the borders for any signs of enemy activity. The Vipers were persistent and not very bright, so it was quite possible that the Vipers would strike again; however, no Vipers dared to make another appearance. For Zoruru, the last few days had been extremely boring, but as for the rest of the team, they were completely worn out. Zoruru almost felt bad. Almost.

They weren't working alone, at least. Three ships from the Keron Defense Fleet as well as a few other platoons had come to the KR-06 battlefield to help out. There was even an Admiral among the forces assembled there. It had turned into quite the military operation.

Turns out, the Keron military "higher-ups" were really cracking down on the reoccurring Viper threats. Viper raids on Keron-occupied planets have dramatically increased over the past few months. There had been rumors of a new Keronian/Viper war brewing on the horizon. It seems the Vipers were finally making their move.

"Now we have to clean up their mess." Zoruru grumbled. With the combined efforts of the Keron forces present, work had proceeded smoothly. The mission had been completed in record time; however, Zoruru still felt uncomfortable under the circumstances.

Although the extra forces had proven beneficial to the task at hand—the arrival of an advanced medical team had Pururu feeling especially grateful—their presence had a downside.

The Garuru platoon was an active off-planet platoon. They travelled the universe in their spacecraft completing missions sent to them by headquarters. Very rarely did the platoon ever come into direct contact with their military superiors or even their fellow off-planet soldiers.

But now the Garuru platoon was working under the direct orders of a fleet Admiral. The Admiral's ship was set in the midst of the other Keron ships that had landed, looking a bit like a castle among the smaller transport ships. The impressive cruiser was serving as a base of operations for the units assembled and was where Garuru was spending most of his time along with the other platoon leaders. Zoruru wasn't sure what it was all about, but apparently a series of hush-hush meetings were taking place on the ship and attendance from all present platoon leaders was mandatory. Why so many meetings were necessary in the middle of a simple "clean-up" operation Zoruru didn't know; he just knew that his leader's absence was starting to get to his teammates. Pururu would constantly glancing over her shoulder as she worked hoping to spot the purple Keronian, but would always turn back to her task looking slightly disappointed. Taruru, who was not used to taking orders from anyone other than Garuru, would come up to him occasionally and ask him what leader's orders were. Zoruru could only shrug and tell him to ask one of the other superior officers present. Tororo didn't care one way or the other who was giving the orders, but it bothered him that these unfamiliar officers would treat him like a child asking him if he "understood the situation" or "needed an adult to help him." His platoon never did that.

Working alongside other Keronians as part of a bigger unit was certainly a different experience for a platoon who did most of its missions solo. Zoruru wasn't sure that he particularly enjoyed this experience.

The cyborg-assassin had never really worked well with anyone. Perpetually cranky and short-tempered, his teamwork skills were negligible. However, that had somehow changed after Zoruru was assigned to the Garuru platoon. He had actually gotten used to working with the team. Now that he thought about it, the platoon was probably the closest thing to a family Zoruru had ever had.

Taruru and Tororo were like two irritating little brothers. Taruru was loud and annoying as all get-out due to his infamous ramble sessions. He would talk non-stop about anything and everything (especially his Master Tamama) and half the stuff he said didn't make any sense. Both Tororo and Zoruru have threatened to do inhumane things to his lips if he didn't shut up (things involving duct tape and razor blades successively). Tororo, on the other hand, usually spoke only when he had something sassy to say. He also had an obnoxious habit of picking out demeaning nicknames for people. Both of them would get on his nerves and drive him to the point of nearly murdering the two of them, but they had a few nice qualities too. Tororo would always repair him no matter how many times the cyborg broke down (even if the tadpole was a very arrogant about it), and sometimes he trained Taruru in combat skills; it was oddly satisfying being able to teach someone. The two younger soldiers left Zoruru wondering if it were possible to both hate and like someone at the same time.

Pururu was like an older sister (sorry, there will be no ZoruXPuru in this fanfic). It was the medic's duty to see to her platoon's health, but Pururu went beyond her duties. Unlike other medics, she participated in combat supporting her platoon as both a doctor and a soldier. She also saw fit to scold her fellow teammates if she ever caught them doing something dangerous or stupid…or both (happens a lot with someone like Taruru on the team); Pururu was very mature and no-nonsense, but she was also kind and always treated others equally – which is what Zoruru liked most about her. Most people would look at him and see only his mechanical side, practically treat him like an object, but Pururu never did. She would berate him for bad behavior and patch him up just like everyone else. Zoruru appreciated that.

And what else could Garuru be but the head of the family. Strong and stoic, the first lieutenant would rarely show his soft side. He was deadly in combat; his fierce reputation stretched to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. But don't let his ferocity fool you; Garuru was strict but always fair. He was the unquestioned leader of the platoon, and Zoruru held him in great respect.

"Hmph… how stupid." thought Zoruru. "Allowing myself to come up with this pointless 'family' analogy? I must be really tired."

Being an assassin, Zoruru had strict rules when it came to his emotions, but sometimes his mind slipped allowing his true feeling to surface. Then he would once again force his emotions back into the dark recesses of his mind. "Cast away your heart." he told himself sternly. This was an assassin's code. A mantra repeated to him many times during his training. Emotions would only get you killed.

"Just like that one time." Zoruru concluded darkly.

By this time, Garuru had finally been dismissed from the Admiral's ship.

"Hey! There he is!" Taruru happily cried out. "Hey, leader! Up here!" he stood on tiptoe and waved. "Pu pu. Finally!" Tororo exclaimed.

Garuru spotted them and made his way up the slope to the ridge-top where his platoon was waiting.

"What's the deal, Pops? What took you so long?" Tororo demanded. "The Admiral did keep you for quite a while." Pururu agreed. "Is something wrong?"

Garuru said nothing. Instead he swept his gaze over the quiet valley – which was looking much less like a smoldering crater now that the soldiers had finished their work.

A few moments passed in silence; Garuru was clearly lost in thought. Even Tororo had the sense to keep his mouth shut as the platoon waited for their leader to speak. Finally, he did.

"Fourteen." Garuru said without turning around. "That's the number of Viper attacks recorded over the past three days." Though the other Keron soldiers were still bustling around, the atmosphere around the Garuru platoon had become enveloped in a deathly hush as the news sank in. Garuru turned to face them and continued. "An estimated number of 400 Keron soldiers have perished in these attacks."

Pururu's hands went to her mouth as she gasped, Taruru and Tororo had become uncharacteristically quiet, and Zoruru stood motionless with his arms crossed gazing sullenly at his leader.

"Of that 400, a total of 27 soldiers died in the battle that took place here. The number could have been greater, but thankfully we have enlisted the help of extraordinary medics who helped a good number of wounded soldiers to pull through." He cast a grateful glance towards Pururu. Normally, Pururu would have melted in ecstasy with the praise from her leader, but now she merely nodded the shock of what she just heard still hanging over her head like a dark cloud.

"So," Zoruru interjected. All these secret meetings were now making sense. "We are at war with Vipers?" Garuru shifted his gaze to the assassin. "So it would seem." Garuru said keeping his tone even though a prickle of annoyance sparked in his eyes. "But our superiors insist on isolating the attacks before declaring a full-scale war."

Zoruru nodded. So that's what the platoon leaders were doing over the past few days. They must have been following the action of these past days battles, strategizing outcomes, and trying to find solutions. "What are our orders, sir?" rasped the lance corporal.

"We are to join the fight to contain the Vipers. Begin preparations to leave immediately."

Garuru's announcement was met with a very un-soldier-like whine that came from Taruru and Tororo's direction.

"But we were supposed to go back home after this!" protested Taruru and Tororo in comical unison.

The Garuru platoon was supposed to be on their vacation leave. In fact, they were on their way back to Keron when they received the S.O.S. The platoon had spent several months off-planet and was looking forward to spending some time on their home planet, but now it seems vacation wasn't going to happen.

"We haven't been home in, like, forever!" continued Taruru. "It has been a long time; my parents must be very worried, not seeing me for so long." added Pururu. "Pu pu pu." Tororo cackled in agreement. Zoruru, on the other hand, had no reason for going back to Keron. He had no friends or family back home, and the only people he had a tolerance for were his platoon. The assassin was actually quite relieved that they would not be returning to Keron so soon, but he could sense his comrade's disappointment and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Tough." Garuru barked sharply. He was irritated too. He felt his superiors were beating around the bush by focusing on merely responding to scattered Viper ambushes instead of planning an attack against the Viper home planet, but Garuru wasn't about to question a direct order—and neither would he allow his platoon to do so.

"I'm sorry everyone." Garuru sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired. "I know this isn't fair to you, but we are Keron soldiers. Our army has need of us and we are going to help. I promise we will go home soon, but right now we have to fulfill our duty. Am I clear?"

Pururu and Zoruru nodded immediately, Taruru with slight hesitation; Tororo slumped forward and muttered "Guess I'll prep the ship for take-off. It'll be ready in an hour so go do whatever it is you guys do. Pu pu pu."

And with that, the platoon went their separate ways. Tororo trudged off toward the ship, while Garuru went to have a final word with his superior officers; Taruru tailed behind him jabbering excitedly about "making friends with war heroes" as he put it. Pururu made her way to the medical ship that arrived two days ago. The ship functioned as a mobile hospital and was fully equipped with anything a medic could need. Pururu needed to replenish her own supplies so she was going to ask them to help her stock up. Zoruru followed behind her. He really didn't have anything better to do; besides, there was someone he wanted to see.

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Over the past few days, Zoruru had visited the medical ship with surprising frequency. The assassin usually avoided hospitals of any kind—their opaque walls were synonymous with pain and the heavy smell of disinfectant was enough to drive him up a wall. But still, Zoruru found himself walking the halls in between border-patrols.

Zoruru made his way through to the rear of the ship as he usually did when he went to see the injured soldier that he picked up on his first night here (didn't forget about her did you?). Miraculously, the girl was still alive—even after three days had passed. When Zoruru had returned with her dangly limply in his arms, Pururu had expressed the same doubts the assassin had about her survival; despite that, the nurse put her best efforts into treating her. The cyborg always expected to hear news of her passing whenever he stopped by the hospital ship. Nevertheless, the black Keronian still lived.

The army medics identified her as Private Third-class Mokiki.

Mokiki had not regained consciousness since Zoruru found her in the gulley. The assassin wasn't sure why he kept coming back here. It wasn't like the slumbering girl would make for any decent conversation—not that Zoruru enjoyed idle conversation in the first place. Mokiki didn't give any sign that she even knew the predicament she was in. The girl's black skin could hardly be seen between the thick layers of bandages that covered most of her body and face. Multiple wires and cables connected her to life-support machines and monitors.

Zoruru supposed he enjoyed the solitude provided by the confines of the quiet hospital room. It provided a chance to escape from the hustle and bustle of the unfamiliar soldiers working outside. The only noises to be heard were the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the gentle rasping of Mokiki's labored breathing. Most of the time, the girl's rest was peaceful, but sometimes her sleep became fitful as she was disturbed with what appeared to be vivid nightmares. She would scowl and twitch her right shoulder in an attempt to move an arm that was no longer there. Sometimes she would make low growling noises as if she were still in combat fighting the Vipers; but soon after, she would slip back into peaceful nothingness.

Zoruru arrived outside the door to Mokiki's room expecting to have a peaceful, final visit. He entered the room and instead found himself in the presence of a Keronian he had hoped to never see again. "Hello, Lance Corporal. So nice to see you again." said the intruding Keronian with a hint of smugness in his voice.

The Keronian standing before Zoruru was none other than Director Bakeke—a Keronian whose nature and appearance befitted a nightmare. Bakeke was pale purple and wore a stark white lab coat down to his ankles. Instead of standard Keronian headgear, he wore a black bandana on his head which was knotted in the back. An oversized version of a doctor's headlamp was perched on his forehead while his symbol—an upside-down triangle slashed through the middle with what looked like a medical needle—was printed on the breast pocket of his lab coat. These things, however, were not the factors that labeled Director Bakeke as sinister. Inch and a half long fangs protruded from his mouth at mismatched angles resulting in him having the appearance of an abstract crocodile. He stared ahead with watery, red eyes which were dilated at different sizes giving him the look of perpetual insanity. A horrible grin was plastered on face which only succeeded in grotesquely stretching the skin around his overgrown teeth.

"Director Bakeke." Zoruru rasped in acknowledgement, fighting to keep the surprise out of his voice. "What are you doing here?"

Bakeke gave a little frown causing his twisted fangs to stick out even further, "What? No hello?" Bakeke pouted. "It's been so long since we have last seen each other, Lance Corporal Zoruru. Er… Can I just call you Zoruru?"

"What are you doing here?" Zoruru repeated with open hostility.

Bakeke shook his head. "You assassins," he sighed, "always so quick to cut to the point." Bakeke's eyes drifted down to Zoruru's razor-tipped fingers. His crazed eyes lit up with amusement. "Ha! Cut! I made a funny!" Bakeke chuckled to himself while Zoruru made no comment on the pathetic pun.

"I'm here on company business." Bakeke continued. He walked across the room as he spoke. "I heard that you might be here, so I thought I'd stop by to have a little chat."

As the Director made himself comfortable in a little folding chair, Zoruru glanced over to the hospital bed. Mokiki was gone.

"What happened to the soldier who was in here?" Zoruru asked already dreading the answer.

"Hmm?" Bakeke gazed lazily at the empty bed. "Oh! The girl?" The corners of the Director's mouth twitched up into a smirk. "What was her name? Private Mokiki? Poor thing. A little bird told me about her condition, teetering on the edge of life and death. I offered my assistance to aid in her recovery. It was quite impressive how she was able to survive for so long with a chest-full of shrapnel, a missing limb, and severe head trauma; but she won't last much longer without my help. The heart of a warrior, that girl." Bakeke paused, a bemused smile now on his face. "Not unlike you, eh Zoruru?"

Zoruru remained silent, staring blankly at the sinister Keronian. For the second time in three days he was forced to relive some of his most painful memories. "So Mokiki is in the custody of Fukitsu Industries?" the assassin asked slowly.

"Yep. That's right!" Bakeke responded his answer punctuated with an odd giggle.

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Director Bakeke was the head of Fukitsu Industries, the largest and most innovative medical company on Keron. Since Keron was a planet open to off-planet immigrants and had problems with heavy space traffic, the inhabitants of Keron were constantly being exposed to hundreds if not thousands of foreign diseases. It was a problem that plagued Keronians since the race first began space travel. This problem, however, was practically eliminated when Fukitsu Industries was established. The company identified many foreign illnesses and created corresponding vaccines for nearly all of them. Their extensive medical research and efficient purification techniques enabled a broader range of space travel and are part of the reason why Keronians had become such an advanced race. The citizens of Keron hold Fukitsu Industries in high regard and enjoy many benefits from the company's existence. Too bad most Keronian citizens didn't realize Fukitsu Industries was run by authentic mad scientists.

Beneath the whole "good of the people" façade lies a dark realm which very few Keronians know about. Deep within this dark realm at the company's very core is the true form of Fukitsu Industries: biological warfare. Fukitsu Industries is the mastermind behind many of the Keron army's biological weapons including Nyororo-based weaponry and deadly chemical bombs. The company alone is responsible for over 60% of the army's bio-weapons, not to mention the medical support provided for the soldiers. The Keron Army was partially indebted to Fukitsu Industries; in turn, the Keron government turned a blind eye to the company's questionable practices.

Fukitsu Industries owes much of its success to live experimentation. Recently much research has been invested into the creation of the "super soldier." After studying old Kilulu projects as well as some other ancient bio-weapons, the company, headed by Director Bakeke, had once again begun pursuing the age-old ambition of a perfect soldier. For this, they needed real soldiers to experiment on. At first, the company only used willing volunteers to conduct their research, but with the wild ambitions of scientists like Director Bakeke, the company found itself in need of more test subjects.

The latest trend the company followed was the use of soldiers who are no longer fit to serve, but still remain under contract with the army. These poor souls are usually soldiers who were mortally wounded on the battlefield. The selected soldiers are those with great skill and talents that the army could use but are dying after being wounded in action. Since they are going to die anyway, the company figures that these unfortunate soldiers will make ideal guinea pigs for their latest medical science. Instead of being allowed a noble and peaceful death, many of these warriors spend their last few moments screaming in agony and die while strapped to a cold, steel table like some common lab specimen. Zoruru knew all this. He had seen it with his own eyes. He was one of those soldiers.

After the accident that left nearly half of his body crushed, Fukitsu Industries had obtained custody of Zoruru. Using Zoruru, the company began its most extensive work in cybernetics. The project raised a lot of interest. So far, the company had only succeeded in the creation of robotic limbs and implants; they had yet to create an authentic cyborg. The project was headed by Bakeke himself.

The procedure was long and excruciating, but the company managed to convert over 50% of his body mass to machinery. Zoruru had become the first Keronian cyborg.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Zoruru snapped back to the present. Bakeke was still seated across the room gazing smugly at what he considered to be one of his greatest creations. The assassin clacked his claws together rhythmically, a sign that he was ready to draw blood. Director Bakeke's scientific prowess may be the reason Zoruru had lived through the horrible accident, but the assassin felt no gratitude toward the psychotic Keronian. The Director was arrogant, conceited, and cruel—willing to do unspeakable atrocities just to satisfy his own curiosity. Many test subjects perished under Bakeke's experiments. The assassin was a witness to the horrors that could be accomplished by mad science. Zoruru was one of the lucky few who escaped from the company's secret, underground laboratories with his life. He wanted nothing more than to plunge his claws into the face of this psychopath, rip his oh-so-intelligent brain from his skull, and shear his flesh from his bones (whoa, graphic 0.0).

Bakeke, well aware of the bloodlust in the atmosphere, smiled wider, his crooked teeth sticking out at even more disturbing angles. "Are you going to kill me?" asked the scientist innocently savoring the intense hatred the assassin was radiating. Bakeke loved chaos and conflict. "I only wanted to have a friendly conversation. You are my favorite little creation, after all. You've been taking care of yourself, yes?"

*shing*

Zoruru stood rooted to the same spot, but had drawn his scythe blade from his left arm (one of Bakeke's design details, by the way). The cyborg-assassin bared his teeth beneath his mask. His single red eye glistened menacingly as he glared across the room at the mad scientist—his hatred and rage were beyond words.

"Now, now. Let's just calm down here." Director Bakeke chortled raising his hand in mock surrender. "I'm a very important Keronian, Zoruru. Surely you realize that there will be serious repercussions if your superiors find my shattered body cut to ribbons with my blood decorating the walls." Bakeke smiled with relish as he described his own death scene. He truly was insane.

"Even if he's insane, he's right." Zoruru thought as he seethed with frustration. He didn't give jack about his own reputation. The universe could hate him for all he cared. But his actions would impact the rest of his platoon. That was something he couldn't allow.

Zoruru sheathed his blade and stepped away from the doorway "You have two seconds to get out of my sight." The assassin rasped in a dangerously low voice.

Bakeke took a hint. He rose up from his chair and crossed the room with quick, pompous strides. The scientist rolled his eyes. "Same old, Zoruru." He said his crazed smile never leaving his lips. "You never change, eh?"

"Neither do you." The assassin responded. Bakeke threw back his head with a high-pitch laugh that sent shivers down Zoruru's spine. "True, true." The scientist chuckled as he swaggered down the hallway. Just before he reached a corner, Bakeke looked over his shoulder, a wide grin of pure evil spread across his face. "Oh, and don't worry. We'll take good care of the girl."

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It was finally time to leave. The Garuru Platoon's ship exited the atmosphere of KR-06 and drifted out into the dark expanse of outer space.

The Garuru Platoon was thoroughly concentrated on the task ahead. "Set our coordinates to Gamma Quadrant D-73." His platoon responded with a hearty "Yes Sir!" as the ship sped off toward their destination.

The entire platoon was assembled on the bridge. Everyone was in their usual place preforming the necessary tasks required to keep the ship running properly.

Zoruru observed them from his usual spot on the ceiling. His job was mostly physical, so whenever the platoon travelled, he ended up with nothing to do but view the world upside-down.

As his teammates kept busy bellow him, Zoruru's thoughts drifted back to the events on the KR-06 battlefield. He kept thinking about Director Bakeke's unusual visit and about the injured soldier that he had spirited away.

Zoruru crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Something didn't sit well with him. The whole incident seemed a bet off. What would interest the Director enough that he would come pick up a patient in person? Normally, Bakeke only got involved when to soldier operated on possessed a high level of significance to the Keron Army. Assassins were a valuable resource for the military race so Bakeke was directly involved in Zoruru's procedure, but what about Mokiki? Her rank was Private Third-class—lowest of the low. Zoruru knew there was something that he wasn't aware of.

The assassin glanced down to Buck Private Tororo who was in the middle of a game of Candy Crush. "He's slacking off again." Zoruru thought to himself, but decided not to bring it up. Instead, he got the tadpole's attention. "Tororo. Got a minute?" the assassin inquired. Tororo looked to the ceiling, quickly shutting of his game with the hand that wasn't holding a slice of pizza. "Sure, Scraps. What's 'up'? Pu pu pu." (Ugh… sorry. Another crappy pun.)

"I need you to look up some intel on Private Third-class Mokiki." Zoruru rasped down to the hacker.

"Ooooh. Wanna know more about your mysterious maiden? Pu pu pu." Tororo giggled up to the cyborg. Tororo had been teasing Zoruru relentlessly ever since he returned with Mokiki in his arms. It was so out of character to have compassion on anyone—let alone a girl. For some reason, Tororo had found amusement in teasing the cranky Lance Corporal about it.

"Shut it, twerp." Zoruru growled down to the irritating tadpole. "Just pull up her record."

"Your wish is my command. Pu pu." The hacker said with mock reverence. "Why are you so interested in her anyway?"

Zoruru frowned. He wasn't sure if he liked the way Tororo had worded that last question. "There's something that I need to figure out."

"Please elaborate. Pu pu. I need to know what I'm looking for." Said the hacker.

Zoruru began explaining to Tororo about his encounter with Director Bakeke. As he informed the tadpole of the details of the situation, the other platoon members listened as well. Taruru, who had been jabbering excitedly to Pururu about something his Master Tamama did, fell silent and was listening intently. Garuru continued inputting commands into the ship's database with his head cocked at an angle towards the conversation. Zoruru was annoyed that his whole platoon was now listening but made no comment.

"Pu pu. Yeah, I've heard about Director Bakeke." Said Tororo when Zoruru was done explaining. "A brilliant scientist with a bad reputation."

The hacker's hands were now blurring across the keyboard. The story had piqued the tadpole's interest. "Just a minute and I'll be in the army's main computer." Hacking into the main computer was against regulation, but with Tororo's valuable hacking skills, information that was normally inaccessible was at the platoon's disposal and had aided them in many dangerous situations, so Lieutentant Garuru overlooked this little breach in the rules. In a matter of seconds, Tororo had hacked into the Keron Army's database.

"Pu pu pu. Here we go!" A file flashed onto Tororo's computer screen. Zoruru jumped down from the ceiling to have a closer look.

Mokiki's military record had appeared on the monitor. Tororo began skimming through the provided information while Zoruru found himself staring at the photo in the top-right corner of the screen. The Keronian pictured there was a far cry from the broken, bandaged soldier he was used to seeing. Private Mokiki stood at attention, the arm she recently lost in battle raised in a salute. She had a petite yet feminine figure; she certainly didn't look like soldier material. He now noticed her peculiar forest-green headgear. Mokiki's hat was topped with two cat-like points, which were typical for most female Keronians, but her ear flaps were only half the normal length. Two black cables extended from beneath each flap and looped around to the back of her head (like Katara's hair loopies) where they were bound together as a single cable. The cable then split into multiple wires that hung in a fashion similar to a low ponytail. Each wire was tipped with multiple-colored adapters (like the visual/audio adapters that you plug into your T.V.). Now that her hat wasn't in tatters, Zoruru saw that her symbol was a battery charge icon (like the one on your cell phone). She had the symbol on her hat but not on her belly. Mokiki gazed into the camera with narrow, yellow eyes. Her expression was that of a true military professional accented with a child-like smirk.

"Pu pu. So that's why." Tororo muttered. "Hey, everybody! Look at this."

Zoruru tore his eyes away from the photo to see what the hacker had discovered. "You were right, Scraps. Your girlfriend is something special. Pu pu p-OW! Zoruru had smacked the tadpole in the back of the head.

"Buck Private, stop teasing our Lance Corporal and tell us what's going." Said Garuru sternly. By now, the entire platoon was crowded around Tororo's computer screen. They really had nothing better to do, having completed their tasks and the ship set on auto pilot (space travel isn't as exciting as you would think). Zoruru was starting to feel a little claustrophobic.

"Pu pu. She's a jacker." Tororo responded while rubbing the back of his head.

"She's a… jacket?" Taruru asked looking more perplexed than usual.

"A jacker, stupid, Sheesh, don't tell me you've never heard of 'em?" The platoon stared at the tadpole blankly. After a few seconds, Pururu spoke up, "Um, I don't think any of us know what a jacker is."

Tororo gaped at his teammates, "Seriously?! None of you have ever heard about jackers? Wow. For members of an A-class platoon, you guys are sure out of the loop. Pu pu pu!"

"Care to enlighten us, Buck Private." Garuru growled. He was glaring through his yellow visor; the annoyance of being inadequately informed evident in his voice.

Not wishing to irritate his leader even further, Tororo hastily pulled up some more files containing photos of what looked like the burnt-out husks of ruined machinery and of Keronians with head gear similar to Mokiki's.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised." Commented Tororo as he began his explanation. "Jackers are a relatively new force in the Keron Army. As you know, Vipers have been attacking us again, just like they've been doing for centuries, only difference is this time they are using more and more computerized weapons such as drones and guided missile systems. These weapons are a major problem for our soldiers; because before, all you needed to do was take out the pilot or controller of the weapon to eliminate the threat. What we're dealing with now are practically self-sustaining systems that will keep on attacking 'til they hit their target. It doesn't matter what you throw at them, the only way to stop them is to sabotage the weapon's computer. Hackers, such as myself, are capable of doing this; the only hitch is that it takes time. So while hackers are busy overriding the system's firewalls, the combat soldiers on the battlefield are being torn to pieces. The Keron Army needed a faster way to shut down enemy computer- weapons, but the only way to do that is to somehow get a hacker in direct contact with the weapon. But, as you know, we hackers aren't really the 'physical' type. We do our best work from the safety of our chairs. Pu pu pu!" Tororo gave a crooked smirk and shuddered. "I mean, imagine me running up to an enemy drone-tank to disarm it. I'd get fried! Not even the yellow creep could manage that. Pu pu."

"That's why Central Command has introduced the jackers—a whole new breed of soldier." Tororo continued. "In a nutshell, a jacker is a cross between a forward assault soldier and a hacker. They are Keron's response to the growing computer-weapon threat. They have a very unique way for dealing with enemy drones and missiles." Tororo zoomed in on one of the jacker's helmets. "Surely you've noticed the the jacker's unusual headgear. Using the cables on their helmets plus a specially formulated resonance technique, the jackers have the ability to eliminate the threat of enemy computer weapons instantaneously."

"A resonance technique?" Garuru mused as he took in the information. "Wow! That's so cool!" shouted an excited Taruru. "These jackers are quite interesting." Zoruru muttered in agreement.

All Keronians possess within them a latent power that can be released by resonating with other members of their race. This is one of the driving forces behind the Keronian's superior teamwork.

The ability was officially known as Keronian resonance technique, but was more commonly referred to as simply power, chi, or energy by the Keronians themselves. Individual Keronians could also hone this skill to fit their unique combat style. This was the power behind Zoruru's Super Assassin Magic, Taruru's eye beams, and Garuru's ability to dimensionally summon weapons.

"The jackers have been trained to channel their energy through the cables attached to their headgear. They get close enough to the enemy's weapon, plug the ends of their wires into the machine, and force their energy into the weapon's computer completely destroying it from the inside."

"Amazing." Breathed Pururu. "Many lives can be saved through this technique." Tororo nodded. "It is pretty cool, but jackers ain't got nothing on real hackers. Jackers can only sabotage computers while hackers like me can both destroy and reprogram." Tororo enlarged Mokiki's file again. "Pu pu. Although, I have to admit, these guys are impressive; especially this one here. In the short time that she has been enlisted, she has destroyed over 50 enemy weapons. Looks like she like she was also set to be promoted to Lance Corporal. Pu pu. Turns out your favorite Private Third-class is quite the little warrior, eh Zoruru?" the tadpole turned to give the assassin another mischievous smirk only to discover that the assassin had vanished.

"Sheesh, you're welcome." Tororo said sarcastically as he sulked in his chair. "I take the time to illegally hack into Command's database and not so much as a thank you? Stupid bucket-of –bolts. I never get the respect I deserve."

"Aww, cheer up, Tororo." Said Taruru playfully. "You're the coolest nerd I know."

"Pu pu! Did you just call me a nerd, you fish-lipped freak?!" Tororo shouted angrily as he waved his fists in the air.

Pururu and Garuru turned to leave, already knowing what would happen next. The Lieutenant and Chief Medic went to find some dinner leaving the two younger frogs to their childish squabble.

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Meanwhile, Zoruru had retreated to the air ducts. He needed a quiet place to think.

It turns out, Mokiki possessed military value after all. The assassin sat quietly in the dark, letting the damp coolness in the air chill him to the bone. Zoruru once again ran the events of the past few days through his head. A horrible, frigid feeling gripped his heart causing his very being to shudder. He knew that Bakeke would do anything to keep the injured jacker alive. Anything.

Zoruru closed his eyes, remembering once again the peaceful face of the sleeping black Keronian.

He wished her all the luck in the universe.

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It wasn't supposed to be this way.

She no longer knew where she was or what she was doing. She only knew that she was somewhere dark—unable to escape.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

She also knew that she wasn't alone. Beyond the mysterious walls that confined her, she could hear voices. At first, she took comfort in their presence, thankful to know that she wasn't alone. But she soon realized that these voices were not her friends. She heard them whisper cruel and horrid things to her. She heard them laughing at her as she desperately tried to escape this terrible place. She called out to the voices for help but help never came.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

She also found herself in the company of pain. Much pain. Pain so intense that it had gone beyond the limits of crying and screaming. The pain had become her existence. She floated in a sea of agony.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Time became irrelevant. Hours became minutes and minutes became hours. Endless darkness consumed her and there was no escape. "Please—help." She cried out, her voice a reflection of misery itself. No help ever came. She begged the darkness to consume her to end her existence, but she was denied her request. She was prisoner within her own mind and body.

Mokiki's heart reached out to find something to hold on to. Something to keep her sane. "Romomo… save me."

I can't let it end like this.

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Many claim that they desire to fulfill their destiny while others attempt to run away from their fates. What these people don't realize is that whether they decide to pursue or flee they have already been bitten, already a victim of the divine force that shapes our lives.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o **

** Hey minna! Sorry I didn't introduce myself in the first chapter. Life's been a hassle lately; plus, my sister is begging me to give up the laptop as I typed this chapter. She's been watching Total Drama Island on Youtube—we're both totally hooked =) Anyway, just for the record, I do not own Sgt Frog or its characters. I did come up with a couple of OCs (Mokiki and Bakeke). I'm insanely proud of Bakeke; I came up with his personality and backstory in like five minutes. I'm also working hard with keeping the Garuru Platoon in character. How am I doing so far?**

** Just so you know, I am trying to get new chapters out every 2-3 weeks. I promise that I will finish this story, and that it will written with high standards—no laziness on my end!**

** Sorry, I'm not usually this chatty. Next time I'll keep the author's notes to a minimum… Look forward to chapter three! Coming soon! =D**


	3. Ruptured Repose

** Hey! It's me! Heh heh heh he—Ah! OW! I'm sorry! Don't throw things at meeee! …. Anyway, so sorry. It took way longer than I thought to release this chapter. Gomenasai, minna. Well, that was a nasty trick so here's a treat. Enjoy chapter 3!**

Chapter 3: Ruptured Repose

It had been a tense two and a half months since the Garuru Platoon had departed on their mission to defend Keronian territory from the onslaught of the Viper forces.

Just as it had in the past, the fighting between the Keronians and Vipers had gotten intense. It wasn't clear what the Viper's intentions were. Historically, the Vipers were only interested in creating their own footholds among captured Keronian territory in an effort to impose some galactic superiority, however, this time around the Viper forces seemed a bit too ambitious for this fight to be a mere power struggle. The possibility of war became increasingly real as the Vipers advanced closer and closer to planet Keron.

The entirety of the Keron forces had been mobilized to defend their home planet. The Garuru Platoon found themselves in the heart of the fight to protect Keron from the advancing Viper fleet. A series of short battles took place as Keron's ancient enemy tried again and again to break the warrior race's defensive lines, but even after giving their greatest effort, the Vipers had no success.

After what seemed like ages, the Viper fleet had no choice but to withdraw. Without any warning or declaration of surrender, the Vipers retreated back to the dark corner of space from whence they came leaving behind a damaged and very much confused Keron fleet.

While the military authorities tried to make sense of the situation, the surviving Keron troops and platoons were issued an order of standby. The previous battle had come with its price as many a soldier had perished in the struggle. The Garuru Platoon was one of the lucky few units who fought through the battles and came out relatively unscathed. The platoon members themselves held together pretty well with only a few minor injuries from the conflict, however, their ship was a smoldering wreck. The spacecraft had been accumulating more and more damage with each Viper attack it endured. Tororo was doing his best keeping up on repairs, but the young hacker could only do so much. Finally, during the last battle, the ship took on more than she could handle. The Garuru platoon ended up not only fighting against the Vipers, but also the unrelenting vacuum of space as their ship was on the verge of being torn apart. You could imagine the platoon's relief when the Vipers had retreated. Now the team was trying to put their ship back together the best they could while enduring the uneasy silence of the battle's aftermath.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Tororo, status report." First Lieutenant Garuru inquired from his position behind the ship's command station. Normally, he would be seated in his command chair, but it had broken free from its restraints when a laser missile had struck the ship's shields and had tumbled off into some unforeseen corner of the bridge.

The ship's interior looked as though a herd of rampaging space buffalo had trampled through. Larges pieces of wall and ceiling had been shaken loose during raging conflict and large piles of debris decorated the floor. Much of the ship's equipment had flown from their original positions and lay scattered around the bridge—a majority of them broken into pitiful fragments. The thick metal that composed the hull of the ship had been torn open in several places due to multiple impacts from enemy weapons. They had been hastily patched to prevent the escape of precious oxygen, but the shoddy repairs wouldn't last much longer. Tororo was hard at work attempting to remedy the battered hull while Taruru and Zoruru moved the surviving equipment back into place.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep this up." Tororo reported as he welded a ruptured seem shut. The tadpole's tone was completely serious for once. "Approximately 43% of the ship has sustained irreversible damage, and here I am trying to hold it all together with, well, basically molten slag and hi-tech staples! Pu pu."

Garuru nodded. "We appreciate your efforts, Buck Private. We just need to keep the ship operational until we receive orders from Central Command." The lieutenant began pacing back and forth along the ship's bridge checking the readings on the control panels and navigation instruments—Pururu trotting after him all the while.

"Lieutenant! Will you please stop moving for two seconds. The cut on your face needs stitches!" The nurse was toting her medic kit along with her. Pururu gripped her leader's shoulder, trying to inspect the wound on his face, but Garuru shrugged her off.

"I'm fine." He replied gruffly. "Go see to the others, Chief Medic."

"I already have, sir." Pururu informed him. She was beginning to look a little annoyed. "You're the only one left who needs to be treated. Sit down for a minute, will you?"

"I told you; I'm alright." Garuru said firmly not looking up from his task.

"You are so stubborn!" the nurse remarked growing more and agitated. "You're not invincible, Garuru. You need to be taken care of just as much as everyone else. Besides, I really care about you!" Pururu paused for a moment—her face flushed as she hadn't meant to say that last sentence out loud—but then pressed on. "Now, sir. Please let me do my job."

Garuru sighed; he wasn't able to able to argue with the nurse's logic. "You make a good point, Chief Medic. Allow me a moment to complete my task then I will allow you to complete yours." The lieutenant shifted his full attention back to his job.

Pururu stepped away from her leader still feeling a bit annoyed by his stubbornness, but the finality in his tone implied that he would allow no more argument. Even though she stopped shadowing him, her eyes never left her leader; she maintained a calm composure and patiently waited for Garuru to complete his task.

Meanwhile, Zoruru had observed this exchange from across the room. "The lieutenant is peerless in combat in combat but is blind to the emotions of others." The assassin thought to himself as he silently observed his teammates. Ever vigilant, Zoruru had noticed that the lady of the team had feelings for their platoon leader quite a while ago, but has remained silent on the matter. The assassin had no interest in relationships and didn't plan on interfering. But despite that he couldn't help but wonder if Garuru would ever notice Pururu's feeling's for him.

"Hey, Zoruru! Keron to Zoruru !" An annoying voice pulled him from his thoughts. Moments before, Zoruru had been helping Taruru lift an oversized computer console back to where it belonged. The duo had stopped for a break when Taruru's arms started to give out under the weight of the massive machine.

"I said your name, like, five times! You okay?" the blue Keronian asked his head cocked at a questioning angle.

"I'm fine, Taruru, Just thinking." Zoruru replied positioning himself by the big computer ready to start moving it once again.

"Oh, okay." Taruru nodded a cheery smile lighting up his face. "But is it alright for an elite assassin to be spacing out like that? Heh heh he—OOF!"

With a single, powerful shove, Zoruru had pushed the large computer forward on the unsuspecting Keronian pinning him to the wall.

"Aah! Hwelp! Iwts squishwing mweee!" Taruru panicked under pressure of the imposing device.

"Oh, sorry," Zoruru rasped in the most innocent voice he could manage. "Must have been spacing out again." And with that the assassin once again pushed the device squishing the young private even further.

"W'okay! W'okay! Wi'm sworrw'y!" Taruru cried frantically. It was hard to beg with his cheeks squished so close together. "Pw'ease wet mwee gw'ou!"

As Zoruru continued to torment the irritating first-private, Tororo collapsed into a fit of hysterical laughter. He found the whole incident to be quite hilarious.

"Will you three cease fooling around? We need to get the ship back into decent working condition in preparation for a possible counterstrike." Garuru said slightly exasperated by his platoon's display of immaturity.

"W-w'ou thwink d'ey cwould bwee cwomw'ing bwack?" Taruru asked, his face still squished against the wall. Zoruru thought about releasing him, but decided it wouldn't hurt to leave him there for a few minutes.

"Pu pu. Yeah right." Tororo scoffed. "We beat the snot out of the Viper fleet. If they had any brains, they wouldn't come back. Pu pu pu."

"I would agree with you, buck private, however the Vipers do not have a reputation for being…ah… intelligent." Garuru replied.

"I agree." Zoruru rasped joining in the conversation for once. "Also, their method of departure was unusual. They left without a single word."

Garuru nodded. "Not so much as an empty threat. No grand promises of an imminent return—uncharacteristic of the Vipers.

"That's why Central Command is being so cautious." Pururu chimed in. "They don't want to be caught unprepared if this is all just a clever ruse." She was busy preparing a needle still determined to treat her leader's injuries whether he liked it or not.

"Pu pu! Central Command should chill out. Those snaky weirdoes won't be coming back anytime soon. I say we call it a day and go get a pizza." Tororo said as he finished the last of the repairs. The tadpole leaned back and surveyed his work with a satisfied smirk. "That should do it. These repairs should hold long enough for the geezers in Central Command to make their decisions. Pu pu pu!"

"Copy that, buck private." Garuru said in an approving tone (he ignored the "geezer" comment.). "I'm nearly finished here as well."

"D'ats gweat w'ou gwuys, bwut mw'y hweads stwill stwuck." Taruru informed them his voice muffled by the machinery.

"Pu pu. Even better!" Tororo cackled mischievously. "Should be smooth sailing from now on."

Then, as if on cue, a loud hissing sound could be heard in the cabin, followed by the piercing wail of a warning siren and flashing red lights.

"W-whuz gwion on?" Taruru shouted.

"Sir!" Pururu shouted urgently. "The ship's oxygen levels are rapidly decreasing!"

Suddenly, a weakened portion of the ship's hull could no longer stand the pressure beyond its walls. The powerful forces of outer space caused the reinforced wall to collapse in on itself forming a gaping hole in the side of the Garuru platoon's ship.

"Great. Just great." Zoruru thought to himself. This is why you should never say things like "smooth sailing." It's an invitation for things to get even worse.

The sudden loss of pressure created a horrible suction that was quickly robbing the platoon of their precious air supply. Loose debris and anything that wasn't bolted down began being tossed violently around the ship's bridge—including the platoon members themselves.

Zoruru sunk his clawed hand deep into the floor before the suction had gotten a hold of him. Tororo managed to grasp a handful of computer wires from beneath his desk and was clinging on for dear life. Taruru, who was closest to the breech in the hull, would have been flung out of the ship if his noggin wasn't still squeezed between the wall and computer. His head remained firmly in place while his body flapped around like a carp flag in typhoon season. Pururu, however, had no time to grab onto anything. The nurse was instantly seized by the powerful air currents and sucked into the vortex—about to be lost in the dark vacuum of space. Pururu screamed in pure fright as she rushed toward her tragic fate.

Not if Lieutenant Garuru could help it.

Garuru jumped after Pururu, allowing the vortex to carry him forward until he reached the terrified nurse. He grabbed hold of her with one hand and with the other; he unlatched his belt and flicked it out as if it were a whip. The belt lassoed unto a narrow strip of railing and the two Keronians jerked to a stop and instead, hung suspended in midair. (Whew…)

"What do we do?!" Pururu screamed. She was now clinging to Garuru as the two were being whipped around by the rushing torrents of escaping air.

"We have to plug the hole! Don't ask me how; I HAVE NO FREAKIN' IDEA!" Tororo wailed over the roar of the air currents.

Garuru was about to respond when the railing he had attached his belt to had begun creaking and shaking violently. - The Garuru Platoon was in serious trouble.

"This is bad." Zoruru thought, his claws still stuck in the floor. His mind began racing as the precious, few seconds they had left slipped away. Garuru had his hands full with Pururu; plus, the railing that was keeping the two of them in the ship was slowing coming loose. Tororo was out of ideas, and Taruru wouldn't be able to do much either—stuck or un-stuck.

Could this be the end? The thought finally crossed Zoruru's mind that they could die here. The assassin had stared death in the face multiple times before, but this time his fellow platoon members were in danger as well. Time was running out—so were their options. Was he not able to save them? Was he not able to save himself?

In frustration, Zoruru sunk his claws deeper into the floor.

… Wait a minute!

Zoruru turned attention to the floor of the ship. The floor consisted of sheets of thin metal stretched over reinforced Keronian steel. The top-layer of the floor was thin and pliable—Zoruru had easily anchored his claws into the surface material.

This could work.

Using his assassin magic, Zoruru retracted his claw from the floor and stood upright. Despite the chaotic airflow around him, the assassin stuck to the floor just as he would stick to the ceiling.

Zoruru surveyed the hole in the ship's side; then he inspected the floor. After looking back forth several times, the assassin knew what he had to do.

*shing*

As swiftly as the altered gravity would allow, Zoruru began slicing the floor with his scythe. The cyborg continued cutting the floor until he had gouged a large circle into the metal surface; then stepped back to allow gravity to finish the job.

A loud, metallic squeaking noise pierced the air joining in a deafening chorus with the howling air flow and screeching sirens. The disorienting sound forced Zoruru to cover his ears as the metal sheeting was slowly tugged away from the rest of the floor. The severed piece of flooring suddenly and violently broke free and whizzed toward the gap in the wall. The sheet metal slammed into the side of the ship directly over the breech. The suction held it into place and forced the pliable metal into a vacuum seal, completely sealing off the breech like a cork in a wine bottle.

With the sudden loss of suction, everything that was previously flying around the bridge dropped to the floor. Garuru and Pururu hit the ground with a loud thud. Tororo toppled forward and rolled somewhere under his desk. Taruru… still stuck to the wall (*face palm*). The ship's distress lights ceased flashing and the emergency siren fell silent and was replaced by the sporadic beeping of the ship's artificial atmosphere as it fought to rectify the dangerously low levels of oxygen.

Zoruru fell to his knees suddenly realizing that he hadn't breathed in the past couple minutes. The sound of coughing and wheezing filled the air as the platoon fought for breath.

After a few moments, Garuru broke the silence, "Platoon, sound off."

"Pu pu pu. Right here, sir." Tororo called his head poking out from under his desk.

"I'm here too." Pururu said in a shaky voice as she slowly rose from the floor.

"Here." Zoruru rasped.

"Private Taruru?" Silence… "Taruru, report!" Garuru shouted.

"Mwy hweads stwill stwuck." Taruru whimpered as he resumed his struggle for freedom against the oppression of the computer. His platoon mates anime sweat-dropped.

"Lance Corporal," Garuru sighed, "please give Private Taruru some aid." Garuru turned back to the controls to attempt to bring some order to his savaged spaceship.

"Well, I sure hope THAT never happens again. Pu pu." Said Tororo as he emerged from beneath his desk.

"Agreed." Pururu sighed her voice no longer shaking. "Is anybody injured?"

"I don't think so." Zoruru grunted as he yanked the computer away from the wall.

Once free from the restraining machine, Taruru collapsed in a heap. "OH FROG! ICAN BREATHE!" he gasped loudly as he lay limply on the floor.

"Looks as though everyone survived all right." Garuru gave a rare smile; he was quite relived that his platoon had made it through the recent ordeals without losing anybody. He glanced over to the freshly sealed hole in the wall. "Buck Private, will that seal hold?"

"I sure hope so. Pu pu." Said the hacker as he examined the breech. "Though I wouldn't stress about it too much. The hole is sealed up pretty tight. Pu pu pu; nice going, Scraps." Tororo glanced over to the silent assassin, flashing his trade-mark smirk.

Zoruru stared at the young hacker briefly before turning away slightly agitated. So typical for Tororo to thank him while using that annoying pet-name. He shrugged off the compliment and hopped back onto the ceiling.

"I would try to reinforce it," the tadpole continued, "but my welding tools were sucked out of the ship… along with most of my other equipment. Pu pu." He added in a frustrated tone.

"Hey, on the bright side; it's a lot cleaner in here!" Taruru chipped in finally recovering from the whole 'nearly crushed by a computer incident.' "I mean, it would have taken us forever to clean it all up ourselves!" He reasoned in his usual cheerful tone.

Tororo, however, took no notice of his teammates words and was instead distracted by his appearance. "Pu pu pu pu pu!" the tadpole giggled hysterically. "Your face looks like a fish!"

"Huh?" Taruru cocked his head and turned to look at his reflection in one of the ship's windows. Sure enough, after being squished against the wall for so long, Taruru's head had retained a shape that was much narrower and longer than normal, and the young private's habit of puckering his lips when confused didn't really help. His face actually did resemble an oversized fish with freckles.

"Oh, sweet Keron!" Taruru shouted. "I do look like a fish!"

The two young frogs collapsed into a pile of laughter and Pururu breathed a happy sigh. "I'm so glad that's all over." The nurse said as she turned back to Garuru. "Now, sir. Please allow me to treat your wounds." Without giving Garuru a chance to argue, Pururu shifted into full-out medic mode. In a flash, she had her needle in hand and had already started to stitch the gash on her leader's cheek.

A rapid blipping sound went off from one of Tororo's surviving computers. "Pu pu. What now?" the tadpole groaned as he trudged over to the computer monitor.

"What is it, buck private ?" Garuru muttered through clenched teeth as Pururu continued to stitch his face back together.

"Incoming transmission from the fleet Commander, sir." Tororo responded.

"Put it on screen." Garuru ordered.

Tororo swiftly activated the overhead holographic screen on which appeared the image of the Keron fleet Commander. "Garuru Platoon. We have received your distress signal. What is your status?"

Garuru snapped up into a professional salute. "Lieutenant Garuru reporting, s—OW!" Pururu gave Garuru a sharp poke with her needle. "I told you to hold still." The nurse said in a disapproving tone. "Give me a minute; I'm almost done."

Garuru awkwardly held up a hand silently telling the Commander to wait a moment. The Commander arched an eyebrow and watched the scene with a bemused expression; he said nothing as he allowed the clearly agitated medic to finish her job.

After a few uncomfortable moments, Pururu stepped away from her leader. "All done!" she said happily as she packed away her tools.

"Thank you, Chief Medic." Garuru muttered while looking slightly embarrassed.

"You have an exceptional medic, Lieutenant Garuru." The Commander gave a small chuckle. "Now, please give your report."

"We had a breech in our ship's hull." Garuru informed his superior. "Situation was escalating towards catastrophe, but thanks to some quick thinking from our assassin, everything is now under control." Everyone glanced up at Zoruru who shifted uncomfortably under everyone's gaze. He supposed it was nice to be noticed by everyone, but wasn't sure if he enjoyed the extra attention.

The Commander gave a brief nod. "I see. I apologize that your position became so dire. Your ship must be in very poor condition. I will arrange for your platoon to return to Keron as soon as possible."

Garuru gave a brief look of confusion. "Return to Keron, sir? What about the Vipers?"

The Commander's expression turned dark. "Those space scoundrels have vanished without a single word." He murmured darkly. "Central Command has decided that if they appear again, we will strike first; until then, we are recalling our forces to our home planet to set up strong defenses against a possible Viper counterstrike." The Commander gave the Garuru Platoon a good-natured smile. "Consider it the start of your platoon's vacation. You are given clearance to return to Keron immediately. I commend you for your extraordinary performance over the last couple of months. Safe journeys, soldiers." The Commander gave them one final salute and ended the transmission. The holographic screen blipped into nothingness.

Silence engulfed the battered spaceship for a few brief seconds, the Taruru and Tororo erupted into jubilant cheers. "WOOHOO! Alright, vacation!" Taruru shouted as Tororo laughed excitedly. The two young frogs continued to carry on as Garuru and Pururu exchanged happy glances. Zoruru looked on from the ceiling above the ecstatic group. Out in space, on a foreign planet, or close to home; the assassin normally didn't care where the mission took him, and going home held no particular excitement for him. But as he observed the excitement of his teammates below him, he felt his normally somber expression lift just a little. Under his mask, Zoruru smiled ever so slightly. His platoon-mate's good mood was catchy.

Perhaps, returning home wouldn't be so bad.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

*CRASH!*

_The sound of shattering glass and sparking electricity filled the air. Startled voices shouted to each other through the dim rooms and corridors of the top-secret lab. The urgent shuffling of the lab personnel could be heard moving along in quick pursuit._

* 'The subject has broken loose! Don't let her escape!' *

_The sudden disturbance of usually silent facility triggered the laboratories security alarms. Sirens blared their screeching song as the flashing red lights dyed the sprawling corridors an eerie shade of red. The lab's staff was set on high alert as one of their high security test subjects made a break for freedom._

*huff* *huff* *huff*

_The fleeing convict's breaths came in rapid gasps, but she wouldn't stop. She couldn't. She refused to spend another day in these endless, gloomy tunnels being poked and prodded by these heartless beings of cold science. Her footsteps slapped against the floor and echoed off the walls. Shadows glided in and out of sight as her captors tried to find her in the newly created realm of pandemonium._

_She didn't know where she was going; she wasn't sure where to find the exit—she just knew that she couldn't stay here another moment longer. She refused to remain trapped in this hole for single second more. Even if she couldn't find the way out, she would just make an exit of her own._

_Try as they may, no one would be able to contain her any longer._

*THWAM!* *CRASH!* *SHATTER!*

"Siiiigh…. She's at it again." Bakeke lamented as he observed the shattered remains of his lab. Sparks flew from the smoldering husks of his once state-of –the –art equipment creating brief flashes of light that cast jagged shadows across the wall. Small electrical fires had broken out here and there evaporating the pools of chemicals that had leaked from their broken beakers. The noxious fumes rose up and collected near the ceiling forming a deadly fog. Even the ventilation system was damaged beyond any beneficial use.

The sounds of his test subject's most recent rampage could still be heard as she was once again decimating his underground sanctuary. "This is the third tantrum this week." the scientist growled. He was beginning to lose patience with his creation. The experiment had started out all fine and dandy, but when the test subject had regained her strength, she could no longer be contained. Chains? Useless. Restraints? Ripped apart. Cages? Pointless. Sedatives? Sure—if you could catch her! "Heh. She's a feisty one." Bakeke chuckled. He was actually enjoying his test subject's shenanigans despite the damage she was causing to his precious lab. The mad scientist considered his experiment's stubbornness as a sporting challenge; a battle of willpower; a classic game of "who will give up first?" However, as Bakeke surveyed yet another completely obliterated laboratory he realized his little game of cat-and-mouse was no longer lucrative. Government funding would only cover so much damage. "What to do… what to do…" the scientist hummed to himself as he mulled over his options. He couldn't just let her go; that would be like admitting he lost, but he couldn't keep her here any longer. Neither could he let her go unsupervised. Letting a medical experiment go too soon without the proper surveillance was punishable by law, and he couldn't have those 'goody-goody' government specialist come for a visit. The outcome would not be in his favor.

Then, just when he thought he had reached his wit's end, a little light bulb flicked on in Bakeke's demented mind. The mad scientist chuckled to himself in the dark. A grotesquely sinister grin stretched wide across the shadowed face of this crazy-frog. "Yeeeesss." Bakeke hissed quietly. "That could work."

The mad scientist turned on his heel and made his way to the nearest computer giggling to himself all the while. "This could turn out really interesting." Bakeke cackled as he imagined the outcome to his brilliant/amusing/chaotic scheme.

"Time to call an old friend."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Far too often do we let our guard down before the danger is past. Sometimes we chose to ignore the warnings, the signs of impending conflict, and allow ourselves to be lulled into a false sense of security. As we try to take our reprieve, we discover that there is more in store for us—fresh challenges, new drama, and even more trouble. Don't rest yet; the next surprise may catch you during your repose.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The sky above the capital city of Keron was absolutely stunning. The bright Keronian sun shone brightly upon the massive metropolis that was the center of the planet's civilization. The sapphire- blue sky topped the city like a tiara; only instead of precious gemstones, it was decorated with puffy, star-shaped clouds—an example of Keron's natural weather phenomena.

The Capital was easily planet Keron's largest city. Numerous skyscrapers stretched skyward; their structures closely resembling stacks of white game dice. Bellow the towering buildings the city's residents bustled about, thoroughly caught up in the big city's rushy lifestyle. Traffic of all sorts flowed up and down the city streets. Four-wheeled, two-wheeled, hovering—the city could accommodate all types of vehicles. The sidewalks were packed with Keronian citizens as well as inter-planetary travelers going about their business.

Downtown Capital was a must see tourist destination. The verdant parks, expansive shopping district, and vibrant nightlife made the city quite popular with any alien from both near and far.

Farther uptown, the Capital was far less flashy. Nestled among the sleek and tall buildings of the modern period, there were a few remnants of Keron's rich history. These old buildings were ancient in comparison to their futuristic neighbors but held far more significance. Many of these structures have been there since the founding of the Keron Empire and, to this day, stand proud in the midst of the Capital. To the residents of Keron, the "Old Capital" (what the collection of ancient structures was commonly referred to as) served as a reminder—a symbol of the long-standing power of the inter-planetary Keron empire. The "Old Capital" houses the Keronian Senate, judiciary branch as well as the headquarters for the planet's pride and joy: the Keron invasion fleet.

The military headquarters was a massive complex located in the heart of the Capital. Tall, imposing walls of steel and stone surrounded the complex shadowing the surrounding city streets. The presence of the base ensured the city's safety and represented the planet's military might.

Whenever a soldier was called back to Keron, this was where they would go. Every hour, ships would come and go both dropping off and picking up soldiers as the invasion machine kept on rolling.

With the recent conflict involving the Viper fleet, the military base had become a hive of activity. Even though the initial conflict was past, military personnel of all names and ranks were buzzing around the base like busy worker bees in preparation for any new threat against their home planet's peace.

Hardly the atmosphere for a relaxing vacation…

The fleet Commander had allowed the Garuru Platoon to finally have their vacation leave on the condition that they refrain from leaving the Capital city. Due to the current situation, the Keron military leaders wanted the platoon within calling distance in case of an emergency. The Garuru Platoon had complied with their leader's wishes despite the inconvenience of staying on base. After all, this was supposed to be their time away from work, but the platoon followed orders without complaint (for the most part).

The platoon members were given access to one of the private bunkers in the west corner of the complex. The gray, two-story buildings stood in uniform rows like tombstones in a cemetery minus the silence. Vehicles of all sorts rumbled up and down the streets while the base personnel bustled about constantly on the move.

The bunkers were a bit like large, sparsely decorated houses erected to accommodate the soldiers staying on base. While they were not the most cheery quarters, they were fully outfitted with all the things necessary for a comfortable stay including a fully stocked kitchen, a common area, and seven fully-furnished bedrooms (four on the top floor and three on the bottom.); and the Garuru Platoon had one all to themselves.

The five frogs quickly made themselves at home. Taruru and Tororo were soon squabbling over who would have the best room on the second floor while other more mature frogs settled into the bedrooms on the first floor. It wasn't the vacation they had in mind, but it was better than nothing. Soon the platoon's more excitable members were making plans for their vacation in the big city.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Me and some of my friends are going downtown for karaoke!" Taruru said excitedly. Taruru, Tororo, and Pururu were gathered together in the common area. The room was fairly large but contained only a bare minimum of furniture—just a couple of couches, a coffee table, and an outdated television set. Taruru's voice actually echoed off the walls as he continued his enthusiastic jabber. "I told my buddies from back home that I would be on planet for a while so they're coming over to have some fun! Too bad Master Tamama can't come." Taruru looked over to Tororo who was sitting on the opposite couch. "You should come with us Tororo! It's gonna be awwsooome!" Taruru sang the last few words emphasizing the awesomeness of that night's upcoming karaoke party.

"Pu pu. Yeah, I'll have to pass on that." Tororo responded. "You see, a vacation by my definition also means a vacation from you. Pu pu pu." The tadpole cackled nastily.

"Aww, come on." Taruru persisted. "It'll be a ton of fun. Karara and Chiroro will be there too!"

"No way, fish lips. An inter-galactic computer expo is in town. They're having a competition to see who can come up with a software program with the most innovative web-security. I'm going to hack the winner's software. Pu pu pu." With a mischievous grin, Tororo hopped off the couch and went to fetch his favorite laptop.

"He's no fun." Taruru pouted. "I wanted the whole platoon to come to karaoke too."

Pururu shook her head. "I don't see that happening, Taruru. I'm going to go visit my parents tonight. We're meeting up at East Capital. It's the only time they can come see me. Sorry." The nurse smiled apologetically and continued. "I don't think Lieutenant Garuru can come either." Pururu sighed. "Even though we are on vacation leave, he's been attending strategy meetings in the main complex. This is exactly why I did not want us to stay on base." Pururu gave a small smile and added, "You know how he is. I don't think he'll be back 'till late tonight."

"Whaaat?! None of you guys have time to party on vacation?! That's lame!" Taruru said in a disbelieving tone. The young private glanced to the ceiling searching for the only platoon member he hadn't asked yet.

As always, Zoruru was seated on the ceiling above his platoon members listening in on their conversation. Most of the time, his teammates forgot he was even up there, but of course, the onetime Zoruru actually wished that they would forget about him, Taruru remembered to look up.

"Hey, Zoruru. I know that you have nothing going on tonight. How about yo- "No" Zoruru interjected before Taruru could even finish his question.

"Come on!" Taruru yelled in frustration. "It's going to be fun. You have no reason to—"No" Zoruru repeated as he glared down at his persistent teammate. He hoped that Taruru would just drop the matter. Fat chance.

"Why not?!" Taruru pressed clearly not getting the message.

A good number of reasons 'why not' popped into Zoruru's head. The main two being that one, he couldn't sing. And two, he had no interest in socializing with any of Taruru's friends. They were bound to be just as obnoxious (if not more obnoxious) as Taruru himself. He really could care less about some stupid karaoke party. Zoruru was just about to share these few reasons when Tororo came bursting back into the common room in a rather overdramatic fashion.

"Alright." Tororo began his voice quaking with rage. "How many times have I told you guys not to touch my stuff."

"Uh-oh." Taruru, Pururu, and Zoruru thought in unison. Tororo was adamant about people keeping their hands off his gadgets; especially his favorite laptop. Last time someone had violated his sacred keyboard the aftermath was far from attractive. The young hacker could be quite spiteful when pushed far enough.

"Taruru must have been in his things again." Zoruru thought to himself. "He's the only one foolish enough to repeatedly touch Tororo's computer." You can imagine the assassin's surprise when Tororo glared accusingly up at him.

"What's the deal, Scraps?" Why've you been messing with my laptop?" the hacker shouted angrily to the rather confused cyborg.

Zoruru frowned at the agitated tadpole. "Why are you accusing me? What would I be doing with your computer?"

Zoruru wasn't very fond of computers or anything with a keyboard for that matter. The assassin had trouble typing ever since he became a cyborg, Last time he tried, he had gotten his razor-sharp thumb stuck in the space bar. He hadn't used a computer ever since.

"Oh yeah? Then why is there an e-mail addressed to you in my inbox?" the hacker questioned. Tororo was thrusting his finger towards his laptop's screen which displayed the offending email.

"What on Keron?" Zoruru wondered. He peered at the tadpole's laptop. The e-mail was indeed addressed to him. "Who would be e-mailing me?" the assassin pondered as he read the mysterious message.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Greetings Zoruru,

You're a hard frog to find. I had to ask Central Command to give me your platoon mate's e-mail address. He's not mad is he? Well, if he is it's your own fault. You should at least have a Frogspace page (the Keronian version of Facebook). Everyone has a Frogspace page. Even you aren't that anti-social are you?

Anyway, enough with the idle chitchat. I have a little job for you – a 'mission' of sorts. If you could stop by Fukitsu Industries' main hospital as soon as possible, that would be great. I'll fill you in on the details once you get here. I know we're not exactly 'tight'; but trust me, if I didn't desperately need your help I wouldn't have contacted you. Who know, you might actually get a kick out of this mission. I know I sure will. ;D

Lots of love,

Director Bakeke

P.S. Could you pick up some ramen on the way over? I'm starving!

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Well, Scraps. You do realize that I'm going to have to relentlessly prank you, right?" Pu pu pu." Tororo informed the cyborg (it was his typical method of punishment), but Zoruru wasn't listening. With a quiet 'swish' and a puff of smoke, the assassin was gone.

"Hey! I wasn't finished!" the hacker yelled toward the ceiling (that's where he assumed Zoruru had gone). "At least tell your creepy stalker scientist buddy to stop e-mailing me!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The wind rushed around Zoruru as he raced to the outskirts of the city. The world passed by in an undistinguished blur as the assassin leapt from rooftop to rooftop. Zoruru preferred this method of travel over any vehicle or spaceship. Sure, the city's shuttle system could get you from place to place in the blink of an eye, but there was no way Zoruru would ride any public transportation. Too crowded. The assassin valued his personal space above speed of transport. Plus, it gave him time to think. Zoruru certainly had a lot on his mind.

Once again, Bakeke had appeared in his life like some vile fungus that refused to die. A dark stain on his existence.

Most would assume Zoruru hated the purple, crazy frog, but that was not the case. The mad scientist merely reminded the assassin of what he really despised. What he was truly afraid of.

That's what he hated most about Bakeke—the memories.

He remembered what it felt like to be totally helpless. A time when he was weak, alone, and afraid. It was so long ago that he had banished these unwelcome feelings to the distant corners of his nightmares; but once again memories of being trapped, the cold features of emotionless madmen, endless steel walls, a reflection he could not recognize threatened to break loose from their subconscious cage.

But he could not give in to his emotions. He was a soldier, after all. An assassin.

Though he lacked an official military title, Director Bakeke possessed the authority of at least a general, disobeying him could have deadly consequences. Zoruru was not sure how the scientist was able to twist the military's rules in such a disgustingly obvious way, but he could do nothing about it. Within every organization existed a little corruption. Fukitsu Industries was the dark blot on the Keron Military.

It took Zoruru mere moments to arrive outside Fukitsu Industries' main hospital, a massive collection of buildings with structures similar to the city's skyscrapers only, since the buildings were shorter and squatter, they gave the impression of a palace built from dominoes rather than stacks of game dice. The hospital was located in the midst of a lush lawn and garden on the outskirts of the Capital, away from the boisterous city commotion.

The building stood tall and elegant at 20-stories tall. The inside of the building was posh, far too fancy for a hospital. It was like a classy hotel with nurses instead of butlers- a center of comfort and healing. However, beneath the hospital's gilded surface lies the true visage of Fukitsu Industries: the bioweapon engineering lab.

Zoruru observed the building from the shadows of the courtyard. He had considered entering the building via the air shafts but knew it would be meaningless. The only way into Bakeke's secret lab was through a heavily guarded hidden entrance at back of the building on the first floor. The lab was very well protected, deep underground wrapped in layers of thick Keronian steel. A nuclear warhead wouldn't even put a scratch on the near impenetrable bunker. Mad scientist tended to be a bit paranoid. He had no choice but to enter like a normal person: through the front door (which was no fun at all).

Zoruru entered the building and swiftly navigated through the first floor. He dodged by the nurse at the reception desk and ignored the security guards that were asking for his I.D. He also ignored the incredulous stares that everyone cast his way. The military personnel around the base were all use to him by now, but whenever he went out among civilians, Zoruru would attract all kinds of unwanted attention. Passer bys would gaze at him curiously, gasp in shock, or back away in fear. It's why he travelled by rooftop and air vent—to spare himself the stares of strangers.

The subdued tone of the hospital halls was broken by a sudden ruckus. It sounded as though a small mob was running wild somewhere else in the ward. Angry shouts could be heard echoing down the corridor. Zoruru continued past some startled looking patients as he made his way to the back, closer and closer to the source of the noise. The disturbance became louder as the commotion seemed to be travelling along the level. "I thought hospitals were supposed to be quiet." The assassin thought to himself. Rapid footsteps slapped the floor in the hall just around the corner.

*thwack!*

Zoruru stumbled to the ground along with the Keronian who had just crashed into him. The assassin clutched his forehead where he and the other Keronian had collided. Stars danced in front of his eyes as anger rose within him. He was already having a bad day and now his forehead was throbbing. "Someone's going to pay." Zoruru growled as he looked up to see who dared to run into him.

He found himself staring into a pair of bright, yellow eyes. Zoruru looked up and down the Keronian who had fallen to the floor with him. She was oddly familiar. She had black skin and a green hat. But most surprisingly, the girl was not entirely organic. Her soft black flesh clashed with gleaming metal that was obviously cybernetic. The girl was still holding her forehead as she stared at him with open curiosity. Her eyes roved up and down his metallic side. Her gaze made him uncomfortable. Where had he seen this girl before? The Keronian's face didn't register until an angry shout rang down the corridor.

"Private Mokiki! Please stop running!"

Mokiki jumped slightly, suddenly remembering that she was being chased. The shocked expression she adopted when she ran into Zoruru dropped and was replaced by an agitated scowl as she turned to face her pursuers. She removed her hands from her forehead revealing her battery-charge symbol. The fallen warrior of the KR-06 battlefield had appeared once again.

"I already told you, creeps. Leave me alone!" Mokiki yelled at the cluster of doctors who had appeared from around the corner. They were sweating and panting, one of the younger interns actually collapsed on the floor. Apparently, Mokiki had led them on a wild chase all around the hospital.

"Please, be reasonable Miss Mokiki." One doctor panted as he tried to catch his breath. "You're treatment is not yet compl-."

"Don't give me that crap!" Mokiki interrupted. "I'm perfectly fine. In fact, I'm in better shape than any of you guys." The jacker glanced down at the intern who was still pathetically wheezing on the floor.

The head doctor's face flushed a bit at this comment, but pressed on. "Th-that may be true." He stammered, "but-"

"But nothing!" Mokiki interrupted again her arms crossed defiantly. "I've had it with you guys. Telling me what I can or cannot do. Plus, the food here sucks! I'm done with this place and I'm done with you. Now, I'm leaving and you can't stop me."

And with that she shoved past Zoruru and strode toward the exit. In that instant, several burly security guards burst from the double doors at the end of the hall blocking the exit. A few guards rushed forward to surround Mokiki. The girl bunched her hands into fists. "Does she plan to fight them?" Zoruru wondered. The assassin had leaped to the ceiling to avoid being trampled in the chaos bellow him. The hallway was far too narrow for this many people.

"Well, this has certainly gotten dramatic." Zoruru thought to himself. The assassin couldn't help but find the scene amusing. Mokiki had taken a combat stance, glancing left and right sizing up her opponents. If it came down to a fight, Zoruru would fight on her side. It would definitely make his day more enjoyable.

But before the fists could start flying, a frantic voice was heard shouting down the corridor. A voice that was all too familiar to Zoruru. "Just when things are starting to look up." The assassin growled as he observed the crowd below. A pale purple Keronian was elbowing his way through a group of frightened interns.

Bakeke finally forced his way to the front. The scientist opened his mouth to speak only to collapse onto his knees wheezing excessively. "G-give *huff* me a *huff* minute." Bakeke managed to choke out still gasping for breath. "Are all scientists this out of shape?" Zoruru wondered as Bakeke fought to catch his breath.

Finally, the scientist managed to compose himself. He moved over to Mokiki; his sinister grin sprung into place showing off his fangs. Sweat was still rolling down his face—he closely resembled an alligator that had just crawled out of a creek and was staring down its supper.

"Now, now. Mokiki, you should know better than that. Running wild through my laboratories, nearly starting a brawl in my hallways, - honestly! What am I going to do with you?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what you're gonna do." Mokiki growled at the scientist, her hands on her hips. "You're going to let me walk out of here right now!"

"Tut tut." Said Bakeke in a patronizing tone. "You know I can't do that, my dear. You are still in the custody of Fukitsu Industries and it is our duty to see that you have made a complete recovery before we let you go." The scientist spoke as if he was explaining things to a toddler.

"Complete recovery?" Mokiki laughed mockingly. "I just ran circles around you and your lackeys."

"Yes, yes." Bakeke replied waving his hand irritably. "Very good job. Well done. But your forgetting, Sweetie. You're under the thumb of a legally binding contract."

"A contact I didn't sign." Mokiki interjected angrily.

"Ah, but your superior officer signed it. Sooo… that's basically the same thing." Bakeke clarified with an infuriating smirk. "You were a bit indisposed at the moment with the whole 'almost blown to pieces' things. They were only looking out for you. I'm sure you would do the same. Also," the scientist now completely dropped his polite façade. A sinister shadow was cast across his face and his voice lowered to a threatening whisper, "Don't forget that you owe me, girlie. I didn't have to save your life, you know. I could have easily found another little guinea pig to play 'build a cyborg' with, but I chose you. Now do me a small favor and shut your pretty little mouth and play by the rules."

Zoruru (still observing quietly from the ceiling) was a bit taken back by Bakeke's abrupt shift in demeanor; Mokiki as well. The sassy new cyborg had been about to retort but now stood in stony silence. She was in no way frightened by the scientist, but she seemed to have suddenly lost the will to fight back. Mokiki glared at the scientist and roughly chewing bottom lip in frustration, but she offered no more opposition.

"Good girl." Bakeke praised, his sickeningly cheerful demeanor once again returned. "Now, keep up the good behavior and I'm willing to cut you a deal. But, before we go any further, allow me to introduce a dear acquaintance of mine."

Bakeke gestured up to the ceiling and flashed a wicked smile Zoruru's way. Mokiki followed the motion and shifted her gaze to the ceiling.

"Good to see you again so soon, Zoruru. Glad you got my e-mail." Bakeke smiled up at the assassin as if he knew he was there the whole time. Mokiki stared Zoruru quite perplexed as to why there was a metal Keronian hanging from the ceiling. "Why don't you come down and introduce yourself? I'm sure it will clear up some of the confusion."

Slightly irritated by being directly addressed by Bakeke, Zoruru gracefully flipped down to the floor. As interesting as this situation seemed to be, the assassin had no intention of getting involved. His only interest was finding out what Bakeke wanted and getting out. "Forget the ridiculous formalities and tell me why I am here." Zoruru demanded.

"Tch. Yes, I'm getting to that. Sheesh!" Bakeke grumbled irritably. "You really need to work on your social skills. Can't you start off a conversation with a friendly greeting like a normal person? And by the way, I wasn't kidding about that ramen. Would it have killed you to stop at the convenience store on the way over? Honestly, stop to consider others for once! If I don't get my daily dose of sweet n' spicy ramen, I get real crazy! This one time…"

The scientist then lapsed into a lengthy tirade about his unnatural ramen obsession—just one of Bakeke's many quirks. Zoruru suppressed a growl willing himself not to throttle the creepy scientist. He didn't want to be here in the first place, and he certainly didn't want to listen to Bakeke ramble on about noodles.

"Will you punch him or shall I?" a playful voice pulled Zoruru from his thoughts. Mokiki threw him a sideways glance, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

When Zoruru had been summoned to Fukitsu Industries he had not been expecting to encounter the fallen soldier he had found back on KR-06. The assassin had truly believed that the wounded girl had perished in the dark depths of Bakeke's secret lab, but here she was alive and well. Somewhat. The jacker did survive, but not only that, Mokiki had become a cyborg.

Zoruru had heard that there were other cyborgs that had been created by Fukitsu Industries, but this was the first time seeing one in person.

Her entire right arm had been replaced with a mechanical counterpart. The jacker's new arm was nearly identical to Zoruru's minus the blades. The metal extended upward over her shoulder and about halfway into her chest region, then continued down over her midsection suggesting that large portions of her chest and torso had been cyberneticly reconstructed. Her left arm and shoulder were almost normal except for a segment of metal that covered her from the middle of her upper arm to the middle of her forearm like a sleeve. It appeared that the scientists had figured out how to repair limbs cyberneticly instead of completely replacing them. One of the jacker's eyes was also cybernetic. At first glance, both eyes looked perfectly normal, but her left eye was a clever fake. Her false eye was a darker shade of yellow and the light glistened off the surface unnaturally. Her face just below her left eye was covered with a square metal plate that closely resembled an access panel.

The jacker stood with her arms crossed. The light glinted off her right arm which was constructed from a metal similar to Zoruru's own arm. Despite all that was going on, the assassin was glad to see that the jacker had survived.

"So," Mokiki attempted to start a conversation to drone out Bakeke's random ramen lecture, "what brings you to this lovely death trap also known as Fukitsu Industries?"

"I'm not entirely sure." Zoruru responded. "I'm waiting for this idiot to hurry up and tell me."

Mokiki smirked then turned her attention back to Bakeke who was just finishing his tale of ramen.

"… most succulent ever!" Bakeke continued on from a story no one was paying any attention to. "I just can't understand my nephew's curry obsession. But you don't want to get me started on him, eh?" the scientist glanced over to his captive audience hoping for some sort of response. After a few awkward moments Bakeke sighed. "You weren't listening to a single word I was saying, were you?" the scientist asked grouchily. "Fine, I'll get to the point." (Finally!)

"Private Mokiki- this is Lance Corporal Zoruru, an assassin in the Keron Army; and, as you have probably guessed, he is one of my former experi—er, patients. The two of you share very similar conditions."

Mokiki had many questions she needed to ask but refrained from doing so in case Bakeke went off on another ridiculous tangent. However, the wacky scientist managed to stay on topic as now addressed Zoruru.

"You are wondering why I called you here, right? Well, as you have just witnessed a few moments ago, Keron's newest cyborg has come down with a bad case of cabin fever. I'm sure you can recall the feeling; you were not so different at the end of your treatment."

Zoruru shuddered inwardly remembering well the trapped feeling he had endured so long ago. He completely understood how Mokiki felt.

"Unfortunately, things are a bit different this time around. You see, my cybernetic prowess has increased since the time I completed your procedure." Bakeke gave a horrifyingly wide grin as he mentioned his own scientific skill. "As a result, Mokiki's recovery rate was quite rapid, so I began having a hard time keeping her under control. On top of that, I've given her so many sedatives she has developed immunity to most of them. Not to mention the fact that the cybernetic limbs I have designed have increased her strength thirty-fold. So basically, she's become a maniacal she-beast that we have no means to contain."

Mokiki clenched her fists. A few frightened interns took several steps back fearing yet another cyborg rampage. "What did you just call me, you purple-faced freak?!" The jacker's voice rose to a yell as her temper got the better of her. Bakeke didn't seem the least bit afraid.

"If you would allow me to continue." Bakeke said his eyes sparkled with amusement. Oh, so much lovely drama! "Anyway, it's come to the point that she is now a liability rather than an asset with all the property damage and injury of personnel she has caused. We can no longer keep her here." Bakeke glanced at the jacker. "Seems your volatile personality and downright stubbornness actually got you somewhere."

Mokiki's eyes lit up and, for the first time since Zoruru met her, she gave a genuine smile. "Does this mean I'm free to go?" the jacker asked hopefully.

"Alas, my sweet," Bakeke replied shaking his head, "we still have that perky contract to deal with."

"Just forget the stupid contract and let me go." Mokiki demanded her anger rising once again.

"Well, you try 'just forgetting the contract' when Central Commands law hounds are breathing down your neck. Anymore mishaps and there will be trouble. I could probably talk my way out of this, but oh the hassle!" Bakeke sighed dramatically. "No, no, no. We are playing this one by the rules."

Mokiki resumed scowling in silence; Zoruru crossed his arms becoming more and more impatient. Just where was this wacko going with this?

"According to her contract, Private Mokiki is to be supervised at all times in order to eliminate risk, make observations, yada yada yada…. However, we can no longer keep her here since she's, well, a bit demented.

"Hey! Who are you calling demented, you sadistic piece of space slime!"

"So I got to thinking," Bakeke pressed on ignoring Mokiki's outburst (Man, this is like some cheesy family comedy.), The contract didn't specify who would have to do the supervising. Which finally brings me to your little mission, Zoruru." The crocodile smile that always meant bad news appeared on the crazy scientist' face.

"I want you to keep an eye on Private Mokiki until her contact expires."

"….."

"WHAT?!" Mokiki shouted staring at the scientist in disbelief.

"You cannot be serious." Zoruru rasped.

"I'm completely serious. Think about it. You're probably one of the only Keronians on base capable of controlling this fire brand. And, you're also the only one who knows what she's going through. You're the ideal guardian."

Zoruru was about to protest but Mokiki beat him to the punch. "You've got to be croaking! I don't need a babysitter, and certainly don't need to be controlled!" the jacker was seething by now. Zoruru shared her rage. He was an assassin—not a 'guardian', and Mokiki's babysitter comment managed to tick him off even more.

"Well orders are orders." Bakeke stated calmly. "Central Command doesn't want Private Mokiki wrecking the hospital any further, and neither do I. So I'm making her you responsibility. It's now officially your mission, so you have no choice in the matter. I'm actually surprised you're giving me attitude about this. You didn't seem to mind watching her when she was unconscious."

Mokiki gave Zoruru a quizzical stare while the assassin fought to keep a straight face. Bakeke chuckled at the sight.

"And Mokiki," the scientist continued, "I expect you to be on your best behavior. It has been fun, my dear, but your position here is no longer practical. Now I'm trusting you to act responsibly as the Lance Corporal here monitors the last of your recovery, so do not disappoint me. If you do, I might just tell Central Command about your personal vendetta."

Mokiki froze. Bakeke sensed her discomfort. "Yes, I know all about your personal dilemma, Miss Mokiki. Personally, I don't see why it's such a big deal, but if it's this important to you, it makes great black mail material for me. Bit of a farewell present from me to you." Bakeke flashed his most dastardly grin yet as the two cyborgs stood in uneasy silence.

"Have fun you two." Bakeke said merrily as he turned to walk back towards his beloved lab. "May the winds of chance bring together again." He cackled gleefully, then stepped around a corner disappearing from sight.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Zoruru stepped out into the sunlight in pursuit of his new charge. After Director Bakeke had retreated back to his lab. Mokiki had wasted no time elbowing her way through the crowd and rushing toward the exit. Zoruru had quickly followed after the temperamental jacker wondering if she was already attempting an escape. As pointless as this mission seemed, the assassin knew better than to disobey a direct order. Central Command was already on his case about his frequent disappearances (he would often sneak off on his own to either train or plot revenge); he didn't need to add abandoning a mission to the mix—no matter how frivolous the mission appeared to be.

Mokiki was moving quickly towards the exit but was neither running nor jogging. She navigated through the maze of hallways keeping her eyes straight ahead. Clearly, she didn't want to spend another second in the place that had held her captive for the past two months.

A few moments later she was standing in the hospital courtyard allowing the bright Keronian sun to warm her dark skin. A few pedestrians stopped to stare at the half-metal girl, but Mokiki didn't seem to notice. She was too busy indulging in the fresh air from which she has been so long deprived.

She didn't appear to have any intention of running, so Zoruru took a moment to think about what would happen next. "What on Keron am I supposed to do with her?" the assassin wondered. The only feasible action would be to take her back to base and have her stay with the platoon. Zoruru gave an inward groan when he realized he would have to explain the situation to his teammates.

Mokiki, who had finished enjoying the sunshine, walked back over to where Zoruru was standing. The assassin said nothing as she approached; he was still not sure what to make of her. The jacker treated Zoruru in a similar fashion. She stood with her arms crossed and gazed at the assassin with a scrutinizing stare. Zoruru tried not to fidget. He didn't know exactly what, but something about that girl's gaze made him extremely uncomfortable. Her piercing, yellow stare seemed to penetrate his emotionless outer shell and peer into a place within him that he shared with no one.

For a few moments longer, the duo simply stared at each other. An unheard dialogue was spoken between the two—a wordless exchange of opinions.

'I'm not sure if I like you' 'Ditto, mister.'

'We're going to be stuck together for a while, huh?' 'Seems so.'

'We're not going to have to share a bedroom, are we?' 'Definitely not.'

'Good' 'Hmph…'

Mokiki was first to break the silence. "So, you and me, eh?"

"Until your contract expires in two weeks, yes." Zoruru rasped.

"Well, are you going to lead the way, or are we just going to stand here all evening?" Mokiki quipped rather abruptly. The jacker then turned sharply on her heel and walked off in the direction of the Capital.

Zoruru stood stunned briefly before chasing off after his unexpected companion.

It's going to be a loooong two weeks.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Two cyborgs—one sassy, one silent.

How will Zoruru deal with the return of the girl he rescued on the battlefield?

What secret is Mokiki trying to hide?

Here is where a wild, crazy, and slightly awkward adventure unfolds.

** In my own defense, this is the longest chapter I have written so far. I have to change my update status from 2-3 weeks to, well, whenever. There's just not enough hours in the day. But I stand by my word. This story will be completed whether my professors like it or not.**

** Anyway, threw in a little GaruXPuru. Respect, right? XD I also tried to make the story funny. Humor doesn't come naturally so please tell if I'm succeeding or failing epically. This chapter was mostly dialogue, but I promise more action in the next chapter. Chapter 4 will be in Mokiki's POV, so hopefully you can get to know the sassy cyborg a little better.**

** Weeelllll…. That about covers it. Questions, comments? Love it, hate it? Kinda need some feedback here. The most reviews I get, the faster I write ;) **

** Oh, and shoutout to my sister (Editor/coach) for pushing me to complete this chapter.**

** Chapter 4, COMING SOON!**


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